


Remnant

by SamhainGirl



Category: Divergent (Movies), Divergent - All Media Types, Divergent Series - Veronica Roth
Genre: Dauntless Faction, Dauntless Faction Initiation, Eric (Divergent) lives, F/M, Factionless (Divergent), Inspired by Divergent, Max (Divergent) lives, Past Abuse, Post-Book/Movie 3: Allegiant, Tori (Divergent) lives, Tris Prior Lives
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-14
Updated: 2019-11-07
Packaged: 2020-03-05 10:48:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 27,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18827125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SamhainGirl/pseuds/SamhainGirl
Summary: After the uprising of the factionless and the downfall of the faction system, the city seemed to function just fine. At least, until people fell back into their old habits. The factions were re-established because people found comfort in them. Well most people. Divergents were no longer hunted; there was a greater threat than them. Factionless. They had proven their strength, and continued to riot against the factions.Jeanine had a plan to make them fall in line. A plan that depended on one factionless girl, and her decision to conform.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A few quick notes about this piece:  
> \- This is a multi chapter work.  
> \- This mostly follows the timeline and events from the books, but some characters and appearances are used from the movies.  
> \- This takes place about 2 years after Allegiant.  
> \- Eric, Tris, Tori, Max, and Jeanine are alive.  
> \- This piece includes a main original character.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Test.
> 
> It was a test to see if she could do it. Treya has a chance at providing an opportunity for a better life for her fellow factionless. It all depends on her passing the test. The aptitude test. The initiation test. Jeanine's test.

Every once in a while, Jeanine got a crazy idea in the name of science. This was no exception. 

The factionless were the largest group of people in the city, and despite what most people thought, they were organized. In the past, there had been multiple riots that confirmed this, and although Dauntless armies had successfully squashed them, the factionless’ attitude against the other factions only grew stronger.

Jeanine has a solution. One factionless person would be allowed to test and choose a faction. If they survived initiation, others would also be allowed to test and choose as well. Jeanine theorized that if factionless were dispersed through the factions, initiation would break them of their factionless mindset and the factionless would no longer be large enough to even think about rioting. The only requirements were that the participating factionless member was born as a factionless, and therefore not preconditioned to a faction. 

Evelyn needed a bit of persuading. It was agreed that she could choose which factionless would be the first to test and choose. It was also agreed that a large portion of rations would be dispersed to the factionless. Otherwise, she seemed to be on board, recognizing that she could offer a more comfortable life away from persecution, to the younger factionless. 

So it was decided. 

——

Treya was not surprised that Evelyn chose her. Evelyn had taken her under her wing when she was young, protecting her from an abusive former Dauntless father and half brother.

Evelyn had taught Treya to defend herself, and with the guidance of Evelyn’s strongest fighters, Treya soon became a fighter herself. In the evenings, the factionless would gather in the old, decrepit tunnels under the city’s center, and take turns fighting one another. It was friendly enough; fighters volunteered, and no one was ever a sore loser. It was also brutal; bare handed fighting left all participants bloody and sometimes broken.

Treya had earned her reputation as a humble and respected fighter. It was a privilege to fight her, even though most would never win. She was a quiet, solitary girl, soon to be nineteen in a few months. Indebted to her savior Evelyn, she was always close by and quick to protect the factionless leader. 

When Evelyn’s son, a Dauntless member with his own humble and respected reputation, approached Evelyn with the offer of bringing factionless kids to the choosing ceremony, Treya, the usually quiet and watchful girl who stayed in the shadows, piped up “why would Dauntless want to do anything that would benefit the factionless?”

It was a valid question and Evelyn looked to her son for an answer.

“It’s Jeanine’s idea. She believes that just because many factionless have earned their banishment, the children born without a faction, deserve a fair chance.”

Treya wasn’t going to believe the reasoning for a second, but Evelyn seemed satisfied with it and agreed far too quickly than Treya would have liked. 

“I’ll need detailed information about your candidate choices as soon as possible.”

Evenly smiled almost dangerously, “I only have one candidate.”

Mother and son sat for a moment, silently testing each other before Evelyn broke the silence but not the stare “Treya, leave us for a minute.”

Treya tensed, not liking the idea of leaving her leader alone with a faction lover, let alone a Dauntless one, but she obeyed, closing the metal door behind her.

When the man finally opened the door to leave, he gave her a hard look over, which she replied with a hard, warning stare of her own. She watched him go for a moment, a yellowed folder in one hand, then returned to Evelyn’s side.

“Treya, I need you to do this for me.”

Treya stood silently, letting Evelyn stand and place her hands on Treya’s shoulders gently. 

“The test tells you what you should choose, but you’re free to make your own decision. You need to choose Abnegation.”

Treya’s brow furrowed.

“I know you know what they did to me and my family, but their initiation is the easiest, and they never banish initiates. You cannot fail there. You cannot fail me.” Evelyn sighed, “this could bring a huge opportunity for a better life. No more starving babies,” her voice trailed off.

Treya didn’t need to respond. What Evelyn said was law to the factionless, and she had laid down the law on this.

——

“She only had one candidate?” Max’s bow furrowed as he leaned forward, pressing his forearms into his desk.

“Yes, Treya Price,” Four stated, laying a yellow folder on Max’s desk. He had filled it out with Evelyn, noting Treya’s history, and any information that seemed important.

Max picked up the folder, flipping it open, “any relation to Thane Price?”

“His daughter,” Four replied.

“I was unaware he had a daughter,” Max’s eyebrows raised, surprised. 

Jeanine shifted in her seat, leaning back into it and resting her elbow on its arm, “an illegitimate child with a factionless woman after his banishment.”

Max glanced in her direction then back at the file, “daughter of a Dauntless traitor.” He flipped through the file carelessly, “should we be prepared to expect her in Dauntless?”

“Not likely. If she’s smart, she’ll choose Abnegation. Everyone passes their initiation.” Eric’s response sounded almost bored as he leaned against the back wall of Max’s office, arms crossed over his chest. 

Jeanine turned his direction, then back to Max, “if she passes initiation, she becomes a full member of a faction; freedom away from poverty. She’ll choose Abnegation.”

Four shook his head in disagreement, “she’s a factionless fighter, with the reputation of a soldier. She is Evelyn’s right hand, and Evelyn wouldn’t pick someone with Abnegation traits as her right hand.” He let the others mull over his words for a moment before continuing, “her father was Dauntless. It’s in her blood; her nature.”

“The test will tell us her nature,” Jeanine corrected. 

“She’s still free to choose,” Four argued.

“Choosing Dauntless would be a stupid move. If she’s a factionless fighter, she listens to Evelyn, and Evelyn isn’t stupid. She’ll tell the girl to go to Abnegation.” Eric argued, rolling his eyes.

Max leaned back in his chair, as the room sat quiet.

——

Bright and sterile and repetitive. The testing room’s lights almost hurt Treya’s eyes as she walked in. The mirrors covering every wall only reflected the bright lights over and over and over. 

Treya examined the mirrors, catching glimpses of her reflection repeating in every angle. Her brown hair, cropped midway between her shoulders and chin. Her tattered grey shirt and black pants with a hole ripped in the left knee. The long sleeved faded black coat, and the worn boots that were held together with a hope and a prayer. 

The silver chair caught her attention next. Reclined, with wires flowing from the headrest where two metal braces were perched. A small table sat next to the chair, with a small computer sitting on top; wires connected the computer to the chair.

Finally the Dauntless man. The same one who has swayed Evelyn into this idea of sending factionless children into factions and letting them be moulded into faction loving robots. 

“My name is Four, and I’ll be administering your test today.”

“I know who you are,” Treya made her way over to the chair and cautiously sat down, resting her head between the two braces. 

He attached two electrode pads to her forehead, making her body tense at his touch, before handing her a small glass vial of clear liquid. “Drink.”

Her eyes narrowed, not liking the thought of drinking some unknown substance, but she obliged nonetheless. Her eyes closed.

When they open again, Treya was alone. The man, the chair, the computer and table and all the wires, were gone. Before her were two pedestals. On one was a large knife, it’s blade glistened in the bright lights. On the other pedestal sat a block of pale yellow cheese. Nothing needed to tell Treya what to do. It’s clear she should choose one or the other, but why? She was not hungry, nor was she in danger. There was no reason for either.

A low growl from behind, started soft and built to a snarl as Treya turned around. A large, long haired brown dog crouched only feet from Treya, it’s lips curled up to bare its sharp white teeth. 

Treya stared the dog in the eyes, matching it’s hard, warning gaze. Dogs can smell fear, but Treya wasn’t afraid. There is no reason for the dog to attack, so it kept its distance, snarling. Treya’s head tilted as she glared down at the dog. It was a wild animal, and Treya had no reason to fear wild animals. She was one herself; a feral child who survived on instinct and necessity. If anything, she respected the dog, and in turn the dog would respect her.

“Puppy!” 

The exclamation caused both Treya and the dog to look up. 

A small child, with arms outstretched, smiled at the dog.

It responded with a snarl, and the child’s eyes widen in sudden fear.

Treya let out a high pitched whistle, simultaneously slamming one foot on the floor. The combination of the sound and vibrations startled the dog and child. The dog turned back to Treya with a growl.

Her eyes narrowed in warning and she growled in return; her lip curling to show her own white teeth, but her gaze is on the child. 

The child’s eyes widen even more before turning and sprinting away. The dog’s ears lower and it’s tail tucked under its belly before it scampered off. Neither of them enjoying her growl. 

A man stood before Treya, in a black suit, with a matching black hat. His hands, scarred with old burns, clutched a newspaper. He forcefully pointed to the front of the paper, to an article featuring a photo of a bearded young man. “Do you know him?” The man sounded angry. 

When Treya didn’t respond, he asks again, more forcefully “do you?”

Treya narrowed her eyes. The man in the photo seemed familiar, but this scarred, angry man didn’t need to know. “I don’t know anyone,” she spat.

He took a large step forward, leaning down to be nose to nose with her. The stench of cigarettes filled Treya’s nose as he snarled, making the scars across his face stretch and threaten to rip open. “You’re a liar” he snaps “you know him and you can save me!”

“Back off,” Treya warned, sizing him up, “I said I don’t know anyone.” Her eyes narrowed, and the man finally took a step back before slowly vanishing like smoke.

——

“How is that even possible?” Max seemed just as annoyed as he did confused. “How does she not test into any faction?”

Jeanine thumbed through the test results, “it is certainly interesting.”

Max shakes his head, “are you positive you administered the test correctly? Maybe we should retest her.”

Now Four was the one annoyed, “how many times have I administered an aptitude test? I think I know what I’m doing.”

“She literally tested as factionless? Has that ever happened before?” Eric directs his questions to Jeanine, who was still skimming the results.

“It’s not happened before, but then again, we’ve never tested a factionless born before.” She doesn’t bother to look up.

“Is it possible she’s divergent?” Max offers, trying to make sense of it all.

Four shakes his head, “no, a divergent tests into too many factions. She didn’t test into any.”

Eric steps behind Jeanine, reading the results over her shoulder, “she reacts on a survival instinct. She didn’t choose the knife or cheese because she had no reason for either. She didn’t fear the dog, and so it brought on no reaction. When the dog attacked the child, she didn’t protect the child, and when asked if she knew the man in the photograph, she lied to save herself.”

“Factionless certainly have a survival instinct,” Four agrees, almost sarcastically. He looked to Jeanine, “so what does this tell you about her nature?”

Jeanine looked up from the results, “it tells me that we shouldn’t underestimate her.”

——

Treya handed him the can, then the spoon. “I don’t like not knowing their motive. Why would Dauntless help factionless? Since the downfall of Evelyn’s takeover, they’ve been quick to confront us.”

“Trigger happy faction lovers,” Edgar manages between bites.

Treya pulls her knees to her chest, “they’ve made it clear they aren’t an ally.”

“To be fair,” Edgar took a moment to chew before continuing, “we did pretty much double cross them during the uprising.”

“It was necessary, but I get it. But why lie? Why pretend this has anything to do with our wellbeing?”

“So don’t go,” he chews.

“Evelyn wants me to.”

“So go.”

Treya rolls her eyes, “you’re not helpful.” 

He shruged and Treya took a moment to look him over. His grey eyes, shaved head and soft nose. His pale pink lips curled as he chewed around a bothersome tooth. Despite his sunken cheeks, which was a typical feature of all factionless, he was handsome; a stark contrast from the dilapidated abandoned building they had decided to crash in. 

He glanced up at her, his eyes lighting up to see her watching him. He slurped the remaining bit of beans from the spoon, and gave her a flirtatious smirk.

Treya rolled her eyes again, giving him a gentle shove with her shoulder.

His smile grew as she grabbed for the spoon. Usually he would hold it just out of reach and tease her with it, but he let her have it this time, watching her slide it into her pocket. 

“You and your spoon,” he teased. 

“It is the perfect size. Not too fat like those spoons the Abnegation gave us, and not too small like the ones Erudite throw away.”

Edgar rolled his eyes playfully, laying back on his elbows on the floor. “It’s just a spoon.”

“It’s my spoon.”

Edgar shrugged, dismissing her trivial spoon, “so what are you going to do?”

“What would you do?”

Edgar took a deep breath, mauling over his answer before responding, “I’m not a factionless born, Treya. I’m a Dauntless reject. I guess I’m partial to the faction structure. It’s easier to belong to a faction than to not. But I’m happy here. Life may not be easy and posh like it is for faction lovers, but I’m happier here than I ever was in Dauntless.”

Treya hugged her knees closer to her chest, “why Dauntless?”

Edgar let out a huff, “I’m a fighter with a temper. Where else would I go?”

The two sat quietly for a moment before Edgar glanced back up at Treya, seeing her staring solemnly into the distance. He reached up and tugged at her shirt, pulling her down to the floor next to him.

Treya curled up silently, her back to his side, his arm snaked under her head. “That Dauntless guy doesn’t think I’ll make it. 

“So prove him wrong.”

“What if I’m too factionless to be in a faction?”

Edgar rolled to his side, his free arm draped lazily over Treya’s smaller frame, his forehead pressed to the back of her head, “the factions are too factioned for anyone to fit into.”

Treya mauled over his response, long enough to hear his breathing deepen as he drifted into sleep.

——

Evelyn wasn’t allowed in the Hub. She wanted to stay and wait for the ceremony to end, to see Treya one more time, but Treya insisted she not. After the ceremony, she wouldn’t be a factionless anymore, she’d be an initiate to whatever faction she chose.

The Hub was the center for the city’s government. It was never a place Treya wanted to be, as it stood for everything she disagreed with. This was the source of her suffering as a factionless, and it’s blocky pillar-like existence served as nothing more than another shadow on her and her fellow factionless; it’s two black prongs like the horns of a devil. Not far off, in Treya’s opinion.

As she climbed the stairs, following a wave of grey cloaked Abnegation, Treya’s mind wandered to the choosing ceremony and her approaching decision.

A divergent would question why a person cannot be part of each faction; kind, selfless, truthful, brave and smart. But Treya knew the factions better than their positive facades. As an outsider, she had an unbiased opinion of them all. The kind were selfish. The selfless were stifling. The truthful lack empathy. The brave were cruel. The smart were vain.

Who would want to be a part of that?

Evelyn had told Treya to choose Abnegation because they never turn away an initiate. It would be the smart choice. But would it prove anything? This whole agreement was that if Treya could pass initiation, factionless children would be allowed to participate in the choosing ceremony and have a better life. Abnegation initiation would be the easy way out. It wouldn’t prove that the factionless were capable of anything. Would they be deemed worthy of a better life if they take the easy way out? 

Treya grimaced at the thought. Why did she have to prove that she was worthy of a life outside of poverty? This had nothing to do with who was deserving and who wasn’t. No, there had to be an ulterior motive to this agreement. One that benefitted Dauntless, and Jeanine.

Since the uprising, Jeanine had come to terms with the concept that the divergent were not a threat to her governing system, because they were preconditioned to the factions they were raised in, and those they later chose. By choosing a faction, they were accepting conformity. The new threat was the factionless, with their ideals of anti faction systems. They chose not to conform; a fact made clear by the uprising. To any party trying to control the governing system, the factionless were the threat. 

Was this now a ploy to conform the nonconforming? Probably. Most likely.

What would Dauntless get out of it? The chance to get back in Jeanine’s good graces, and if you’re in her good graces, you may get some say in her decisions. You at least became a bug in her ear, and you weren’t on her hit list.

Dauntless was the most corrupt. That was made obvious the way the faction split in two during the uprising. It was a war on morals between the two halves, which gave the factionless the chance to double cross them. But that was a different matter. 

Dauntless were cruel. Treya had heard enough stories about Dauntless training and initiation. And she had seen the trigger happy soldiers attack the factionless with little to no reason, quite frequently. They were cold, sadistic, adrenaline junkies, and bullying around the factionless gave them the jump they craved. 

It would be ironic if a factionless girl passed their initiation. 

Twenty floors up, Treya followed the sea of grey into a great round room. A circular stage sat to one side, and five separate sections of cushioned seats, fanned from the edge of the stage. People were already filing down the rows of seats, and it was obvious that each section was for a specific faction. The farthest section was filling with the grey sea of Abnegation, their heads bowed and cheeks flushed as they caught their breath from climbing the stairs. Next to them were brightly clothed smiles, draped in reds and yellows. Amnity. Then it was Erudite, in their blue suits and judging eyes that peered through glasses with no prescription. Candor sat next to them. Their black and white suit jackets starched, and their faces just as stiff. Then the loud black and maroon hoard of Dauntless. 

“Treya Price.”

Treya turned to face a blond, middle aged Erudite woman, balancing a notepad and folder on one hip. This must be Jeanine.

“I’m Jeanine Matthews, I don’t believe we’ve met.”

Treya looked the woman over, but gave no response.

Jeanine motioned toward the far side of the stage, where a lone metal chair had been placed on the far side of the Abnegation section. “I’ve had a chair set for you.”

Treya glanced at the chair, then back to Jeanine. Her eyes narrowed slightly, but she nodded her head and made her way to the chair.

The ceremony wasn’t anything special. A Candor man made a speech about being true to oneself in their decision to choose a faction, and the importance of being honest about who you are. It was all very Candor.

He was then replaced with an Abnegation man, who’s beard was such the same shade of grey as his attire, that it looked almost as if he’d hung the neck of his shirt around his ears. He called the names of those who were choosing. 

Some decisions caused the crowd to gasp in shock, or roar in excitement, but every candidate received an applaud for their decision. 

The candidates this year were older than normal. In the past, children chose at age sixteen. After the uprising, it took time to rebuild and reestablish the factions, so most of the candidates were seventeen and eighteen. To Treya, it made more sense. Why ask a child who they are when they are still growing and changing? 

“Treya Price,” the man finally called. 

She was the last candidate, called out of the typical alphabetical order, as if she was an afterthought and her name was hand written on the bottom of the roster. 

There were murmurs from the crowd. It must not have been public knowledge that there was a last minute add on.

Treya stood and made her way to the stage. More murmurs hummed though the crowd. It probably wasn’t public knowledge that a factionless girl was attending the ceremony today. 

Before her were five concrete bowls, each engraved with the symbol of a faction. In Abnegation’s bowl were smooth, grey stones. Plain and grey and stiff. Seemed about right. In Amnity’s bowl was rich brown dirt. They were farmers, and took pride in every harvest. It fit. Clear water sat motionless in the Erudite bowl. They strive to have a clear mind, open to changing opinions based on facts. Just as water changes shape depending on its container. Shards of broken glass sat in Candor’s bowl. There is no smoke or tint to hide under in Candor. Their truth is always crystal clear. In the Dauntless bowl, hot coals, tinted red with heat, were still smoldering. How very Dauntless.

It was all so...symbolic. Faction lovers and their symbols. They were as in love with their symbols as Treya was with her spoon. At least a spoon served a useful purpose.

Treya wondered what would be in a factionless bowl. Nothing. Probably nothing, as that is what the faction lovers believed the factionless were; empty and without meaning.

Treya rolled her eyes.

She picked up the small knife that sat in front of the bowls. She had drowned out the murmuring behind her, but she couldn’t drown out her thoughts. 

The knife’s blade was sharp, and it didn’t take much pressure before a bead of red bubbled up on her palm. By dripping her blood into a bowl, she was accepting conformity. Faction before blood, is how the saying goes, and right from the start, candidates go into a faction by giving it their blood. More symbolism.

What did Treya want? Honestly at this point she was sick of it and ready to fling her blood on the bearded man and demand to go back to the factionless. It was too late for that. Evelyn was counting on her. Jeanine was judging her. 

Abnegation. The easy way out.

Treya sighed and rolled her eyes, annoyed with herself. She knew she would never take the easy way out. She knew from the moment Evelyn told her to choose Abnegation, that she wouldn’t. 

“The hell am I getting myself into,” she mumbled as the bead of blood finally fell and sizzled on the hot coals.

There was no applause. There were a few gasps, a few more murmurs. Then a roar, starting low and quickly building as the Dauntless welcomed another initiate. 

Treya stepped off the stage, and to the hoard of black and maroon. 

The factions were standing, making their way to the stairs and elevators. 

Wedged into the hoard, Treya followed the Dauntless down the stairs, having no problem keeping up.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jump.
> 
> Treya jumps into her chosen faction head first. There is no shying away or holding back. She chose Dauntless, and now she has to prove she deserves to be there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few quick notes about this piece:  
> \- This is a multi chapter work.  
> \- This mostly follows the timeline and events from the books, but some characters and appearances are used from the movies.  
> \- This takes place about 2 years after Allegiant.  
> \- Eric, Tris, Tori, Max, and Jeanine are alive.  
> \- This piece includes a main original character.  
> \--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Climbing the metal poles that held the platform was easy. Jumping onto the train was easy. Treya had been jumping trains all her life. The trains were the easiest way to quickly move about the city, and was the preferred transportation method by the Dauntless. 

The train was run by the factionless, like all the low level and unwanted jobs in the city. Trash pick up, sanitation, transportation, and similar jobs were all left to the factionless. But unlike faction jobs, these jobs paid in clothes and food. 

As the train clacked quickly through the city, to the outskirts, Treya leaned out the open door, the wind whipping her short brown hair behind her.

“Get ready,” a raspy voice echoed through the train car, followed by murmurs from the initiates as they wondered what was next.

A large body wizzed past Treya and jumped from the car, over the gap between the train and the passing building, and onto its gravel covered roof. A second Dauntless member jumped. 

Treya watched them land, then quickly backed into the car, gave herself a running start, and jumped.

Gravel scritched under her worn out boots as she landed, bending down to her knees to take the shock of her landing up further than her ankles. 

She stood and quickly moved out of the way as more initiates began to land behind her. Turning to her left, the two Dauntless members who had jumped before her were making their way to a third, who was balanced precariously on the edge of the roof.

She followed, and soon the other initiates were making their way to the Dauntless members.

“Listen up,” the balancing Dauntless shouted, his voice deep and laced with subtle malice. He paced the edge of the roof, his black boots quiet as he stepped. In typical Dauntless fashion, he was dressed in all black; black cargo pants that loosely hugged his muscular legs, a long sleeve leather jacket that buttoned up the front, showing the top of a black shirt underneath. Two blocky stripped tattoos ran up his throat, stopping under the strong line of his jaw. Hard grey eyes sat atop a long, slender nose, and above his right eye were two piercings, sitting like small dots just above his eyebrow. His hair, long and sleeked back on top, with the sides of his head shaved, accentuated his strong, hard features. Add a large, dark black piercing to each earlobe, and he just oozed Dauntless stereotype.

“I’m Eric,” his voice boomed, “I’m one of your leaders. If you want to enter Dauntless, this is the way in.”

Treya glanced from him to the edge of the roof. Another jump no doubt. So far being Dauntless meant a lot of jumping; on trains, off trains, off buildings. Treya could see why all this would intimidate new transferred initiates. They weren’t use to the fearlessness of being Dauntless. But why would a faction ask something dangerous of its initiates, without having some level of precaution. The goal was to train new initiates, not kill them within their first few hours. There had to be something at the bottom to break their fall. A net, water, cushion maybe. They were being asked to face a common fear, the fear of falling from exceptional heights. A Dauntless would do it without hesitation.

“If you don’t have the guts to jump, then you...”

Treya didn’t bother to wait. She ran for the edge, her foot finding it, and launched herself over. She didn’t think twice about the enraged look the Dauntless man gave her as he jumped out of her way. All she thought about now was going down, free falling down through a ominous black hole in the roof of the short building below her. Then the burn of a net across her skin as it caught her, launching her back up a few feet before she came down again. Her body slowly came to rest on the net and she glanced to both sides, her breathing quick with adrenaline. 

To one side was a group of Dauntless members, all clearly surprised to see her. 

She rolled their direction and a strong tanned hand grabbed the edge of the net, holding it steady. She looked up from the hand and into familiar eyes. Evelyn’s son.

Her eyes narrowed and her breathing regulated as she grabbed the edge of the net firmly in both hands, and flipped herself headfirst, over the edge and to the cement floor below. 

The man let go of the net, “It’s Treya, right?”

Treya nodded, glancing his direction.

“First jumper, Treya,” he called out to the other Dauntless as another initiate came screaming from above.

Treya moved off to the shadows of the dimly lit room, waiting patiently as initiates fell through the ceiling; some crying, most screaming, a few quiet.

When each initiate had finally rolled off the net, the tanned Dauntless man stood before them. He wore similar Dauntless attire as the one from the roof; black cargo pants, long sleeved jacket, boots. His brown hair was short, trimmed in Abnegation fashion, but his body language was all Dauntless. He stood tall, shoulders back, head up, arms crossed over his chest. His thin lips were set in a hard line, his distinguished jawline added a hard shadow across his neck, and his furrowed brow gave him a hard, authoritative gaze.

A short, but muscular Dauntless woman stood at his side. Her dark brown hair was twisted into thick dreadlocks, and the dark makeup she smeared around her eyes gave her a haunting look that only clashed with her small nose and mouth. She smirked, chewing a piece of gum as the two of them looked over the group of initiates.

“Dauntless born go with Lauren, transfers stay with me,” the man nodded towards the dread headed girl.

Initiates quickly hustled to follow the girl to the other side of the room and out a door. When all that remained were transferred initiates and Evelyn’s son, he continued, “I usually work in intelligence, but for the next sixteen weeks, I’ll be your trainer. My name’s Four.”

The sound of shoes scuffing the floor was the only response he received. Since the uprising, he and his girlfriend were pretty well known around the factions. They both played a huge part in both Evelyn’s rise to power and her downfall. And he was her son. Prior to the uprising, he was a Dauntless legend; graduating at the top of his initiate class, turning down a promotion to Dauntless leadership, and only ever having four fears in the Dauntless fear simulation.

Being made up of mostly former Dauntless, the factionless had whispered his name and legend a few times over. 

“This year, with initiates being older, training will be more difficult. You’re capable of handling more, so we’re going to give it to you. During the first stage of training, we will be pushing your bodies to the breaking point. During the second stage, you will be pushed mentally. Again, breaking point. Any questions?”

Again, nothing but shoe scuffs.

“Good. Follow me.”

——

Four led them through the Dauntless compound. There were multiple training rooms, one designated for shooting practice, another for knife throwing. The others were multifunctional, having a center floor mat for hand to hand fighting, with punching bags along the perimeter. The largest training room was left for initiate training. Multiple floor mats were set up, a whole wall of punching bags, weights and weight training equipment in one corner, and empty floor space in another. 

“This is the pit, and the center of life here at Dauntless,” Four announced as they gathered in the last wide, cavernous room.

The roar of rushing water filled the room and Treya’s eyes followed it to the far side, where a large underground waterfall sprayed up, soaking the pathetic excuse for a railing at the edge of the cement floor. 

“Don’t get any stupid ideas. You jump of the edge, you die. No one is that invincible” Four announced.

Treya’s eyes wandered around the pit, taking in the narrow steps along the walls edges, leading from tattoo shop to clothing shop, to weapon shop, and on to more similar shops. She looked up, surprised to find sunlight gleaming through a glass ceiling. 

“Above is where leadership works and stays. You won’t need to worry about anything up there.”

Four led them out of the pit and down a dark secluded hallway. After two more dimly lit hallways, and a flight of stairs, Four led them into a large barrack room, lined with small beds, each having one pillow and matching grey blanket. 

“This is where you’ll be staying for the next sixteen weeks.”

“Boys or girls?” an Erudite transfer asked from behind Treya.

“Both,” Four responded, receiving a few grumbles and snickers, as he led the group to the bathroom.

The bathroom had a wall of shower heads on one side, and a row of toilets on another. There were no stalls or partitions between any of them, in the middle were two trough sinks, back to back with each other.

“Are you kidding?” Another initiate grumbled.

“Here at Dauntless we work as a team. You’ll learn to do that by living as a team,” Four explained. He pointed back to the barracks where a cart with Dauntless issued uniforms were folded. “Get changed and head down to the mess hall for dinner.”

——

“I thought you said she wouldn’t choose Dauntless?” Max wasn’t too happy with the results of the choosing ceremony.

“I said if she was smart, she wouldn’t choose Dauntless. I never said she was smart.” Eric flipped a page in the folder, continuing to read.

“I’d like detailed reports on her training,” Jeanine seemed unfazed by the results, “the goal is to have her succeed. If she does, then it proves that the factionless can be conformed, and therefore controlled.”

Max nodded, listening.

“One girl’s results isn’t going to prove anything. You have one compliant. There are thousands of factionless.” Four wasn’t so sure any of this was going to work. He had spent a substantial amount of time around the factionless during the uprising. Not to mention he had a direct relationship to their leader; being her son and all.

“I have one compliant with an outstanding reputation among the factionless,” Jeanine gave Four a stern look, before turning back to Max. “Might I suggest Eric take lead on her training.” It wasn’t a question, nor a suggestion.

“She’s a transfer, therefore she’s part of my group,” Four protested.

“Aw, not looking forward to working together? Partner?” Eric mocked, smirking at Four.

“I agree with Jeanine,” Max interrupted the two’s stare off, “Eric, you will lead Treya Price’s training. This will ensure that she not only undergoes the strictest Dauntless training, but also that there is no favoritism shown. Give Jeanine weekly updates on her progress.”

“Favoritism?” Four nearly cut Max off.

Max turned his gaze to Four, his eyes hardening.

“You are Evelyn’s son, and she is Evelyn’s pet,” Jeanine offered, “one could see where favoritism could be a concern.”

Four’s jaw clenched. He didn’t need Eric around during training. It would only cause tension between the initiates and between he and Four. They never got along, and they weren’t about to start. But Max was consistently up Jeanine’s ass, so he wasn’t too surprised he sided with her decisions and took her word as gold.

——

The mess hall was loud, and full. A Dauntless hoard, larger than Treya had ever seen at a given time, filled the hall. Dauntless members were lined on the far side, with trays of food as they served themselves buffet style. 

Treya followed the other transfer initiates into the line. There were three Erudite boys, snickering with one another, followed by a Candor girl, a set of twin Candor boys, and a third Candor boy. Finally an Aminty girl, looking completely terrified.

The food was in mass supply, obviously necessary for so many hungry Dauntless. If seeing so many Dauntless in one place was surprising to Treya, then the mountains of food were even more shocking.

As factionless, Treya was used to sharing a can of beans with up to four or five people; each taking a spoonful at a time. And meals only came once a day. Every once in a while, Edgar would steal food from the Amnity fields, or from a train haul, but it wasn’t often since the uprising.

Treya opted for an apple and a slice of bread. Having survived off very little all her life, she wasn’t sure her stomach could handle much more than that, let alone the rich and heavy Dauntless foods.

She looked around the hall before sliding into a seat on the bench opposite Four.

He glanced up at her, then did a double take at her food. “Not a fan of Dauntless food?”

Treya took a bite of her bread before setting it back down. It was heavy bread, and thick. She chewed silently.

“It’ll grow on you.”

A large muscular form stopped at the edge of the table, and Treya glanced up at the man from the roof, Eric, swallowing her mouthful.

“Impressive jump today,” his voice was unamused, one eyebrow arched, pulling at the piercings there. 

When Treya didn’t respond he noted, “not much protein in there,” his head nodded toward her plate.

Treya’s eyes caught Four’s as he studied her, waiting for her answer, “its enough.”

A loud clang rang through the hall, and the room quieted as Max leaned over the railing from the balcony above them.

“Initiates,” his voice boomed, echoing through the hall, “here at Dauntless, we believe that cowardice is to blame for injustice. We believe that peace is hard-won and that sometimes it is necessary to fight for peace. By choosing Dauntless, you are choosing freedom from fear; freedom from the influence of fear in your decisions. By choosing Dauntless, you are choosing bravery; courage to face your fears and stand up for one another. You are choosing to be bold in your actions; not to act with an empty head or empty hands, without concern for comfort, good manners, or death. You have chosen the warrior faction.”

The room was silent.

“Be brave, initiates. Do us proud.”

At once the Dauntless were on their feet, cheering and clapping the new initiates on the back. 

Treya slipped her apple into her pocket before sliding from the bench and slipping through the hoard and out of the hall.

The Dauntless were really trying to regain control and reputation among the factions. The uprising had split them and damaged their reputation drastically, but they seemed on the upswing; embracing their original manifesto, trying to rid the sour taste they put in the mouths of the other factions. Treya wondered how long they could keep it up.

Apparently the pit is pretty quiet during mealtime. She leaned against the railing, overlooking the chasm. The water mist splashed her boots and the sleeves of her Dauntless-issued training jacket. 

“You’re not going to jump, are you?”

Treya turned to see Four casually walking towards her. He leaned against the railing to her right, waiting for her answer.

“It would be pretty Dauntless to jump.”

Four raised an eyebrow, “depends on your reasons.”

Treya huffed, “Evelyn ask you to keep an eye on me?”

Four turned, leaning back against the railing, “no, quite the opposite. Told me to stay away from you.”

Treya’s eyes narrowed a moment as she pondered his response, then let out a huff again with a slight smile when he added, “said you’d kick my ass.”

The two stood quietly for a minute, Treya looking over the ledge and Four looking away, each lost in thought. Four finally sighed and cautioned, just above a whisper “just be careful here. A lot of Dauntless are still bitter about what happened.”

Treya’s eyes narrowed, and she gave him a dark look. “I thought you were supposed to stay away from me.”

“I’m just trying to warn you to watch your back here. A lot of people wouldn’t be sad if you were found at the bottom of the chasm.”

Treya pushed herself from the railing, giving him a stern look, “I’d like to see them try.” When he tried to retort, she cut him off before he could get a word in, “let’s get one thing straight. Just because you have blood in factionless, doesn’t make us similar. I don’t need your help and certainly not your protection. Unless you are critiquing my training, leave me alone.”

She gave him another warning look before turning to leave, but he reached out, catching her by the wrist. Instinctively she twisted her wrist in his hand, breaking his grasp on her. The punch from her free hand caught him off guard as it collided with his chin. It knocked him off balance and he stumbled back a step, surprise filling his face. 

Most initiates would fear fighting their trainer, but she initiated it. On her first day. Four watched as she stormed away, gently rubbing his chin where he was sure a bruise would form.

——

Treya was already awake and dressed when Four clanged a small metal baton on the metal bed frame. The other initiates woke with a jolt. 

“Get dressed. Training starts in five.” He gave Treya a quick glance before turning and leaving the barracks.

Treya slid from her bed and followed silently. 

When all nine transfer initiates had finally gathered around in the training room, Four paired them up; the small Amnity girl with fiery red hair, Jessica, and the slightly taller but quicker Candor girl, Alex. The twin Candor boys, Logan and Oliver, who were equally matched in all ways including looks. Two Erudite boys, Michael, tall and arrogant, with his hair spiked up away from his smirking face, and his just as arrogant friend Nick. Then the last Erudite boy, Stephen, who was a little disgruntled with being paired with Benny, the joking, easygoing Candor.

Four stood in front of Treya, speaking to the rest of the class, but keeping his eyes on Treya, “first rule in fighting, protect your head.” He held his arms up, crossing them one over the other, elbows in front of his face. Treya mirrored his movements. “When your opponent attacks,” he slowly demonstrated a punch to Treya, “block with your elbow.”

She blocked, clonking her elbow to his hand a little harder than necessary. He gave her a sour look. 

“I want you to practice blocking with your elbows and forearms.” He demonstrated with Logan a few times before letting the pairs practice on their own, then leads Treya to a punching bag, “you can practice on the bag, that way you’re not going to hurt someone on a basic blocking exercise.” He seemed annoyed. 

“Four,” Eric growled in his usual annoyed tone, and the two moved off to one side to watch the practice. “She bust your knuckles?”

Four looked down at his hand. Sure enough, one of his knuckles had split from her block.

“She rough up your face too?” Eric cocked an eyebrow, noting the bruise on Four’s chin.

“She’s touchy,” he shook his head.

Eric smirked, “you touching initiates again Four? Is that your thing?” Eric’s eyes darkened as he mocked Four.

Four ignored him. “She’s a loose cannon. Easily set off.”

Eric’s gaze shifted to Treya on the far side of the room. Her blocks were hard, purposeful. She didn’t hold back. “She’s a fighter. Isn’t that what you called her in Max’s office?” He studied her movements.

Four watched her as well. Her body was tense, and she used her weight in her blocks, twisting at her waist, her hands loose, open as she blocked with her forearms. 

Eric glanced around at the other initiates. It was obvious they were new to fighting. They didn’t know how to twist their weight, stay on their toes, and anticipate moves. Michael, the Erudite transfer, looked like he had been in a fight or two, and was quick to catch on, but the only one showing real promise was the factionless girl. It was obvious she knew what she was doing.

In a few large strides, he was behind her. 

She heard him come up behind her, and quickly turned to face him. He was quick to throw a punch, which she blocked with her elbow. He punched again, and she slid to the side, blocking with her forearm and sliding just inside his his arm. She gave a jab to his stomach. When she tried to give him another jab, his left hand swooped down and pushed her arm away, knocking her into his right arm, where he caught her by the throat in its crook. His grip around her throat tightened as she thrashed. He was much stronger, and a whole head taller than her, and he knew how to use that to his advantage. She wiggled her hands up the sides of her neck, under his arm as she twisted and pushed her head down, putting the crook of his arm at her mouth to relieve the pressure from her throat. 

The muscles in his arm were tense, but he allowed her to shift in his arms. His left hand reached up and he tangled his fingers in her hair. He smirked. She was good, definitely knew what she was doing. She thrashed again, but his grip only tightened.

The other initiates had taken notice of the struggle, and were watching with curious eyes. Four had given up trying to keep them focused, and was watching the pair with arms crossed.

Eric shifted, pulling Treya away from the punching bag, and then turned her sideways so the other initiates could see. He lowered his head, his mouth at her ear as he whispered an amused “What are you going to do now initiate?”

Treya gave a hard stomp to the top of his foot. He growled, but his boot took most of the shock. His mouth was at her ear again, “I’m going to tell you how you’re going to get out of this, so listen carefully.” Her body was tense, but she was listening. “You’re going to move your hands from my arm, and you’re going to reach over your head to my collar.”

Her body went rigid. If she moved her hands, he could crush her throat in his muscular arm.

“Move your right foot back, between mine and lower your stance.” That part she could obey without fear of suffocating. “Good,” his hand left her hair and found her hip bone instead. “When you grab me, you’re going to push your hips back,” he grabbed at her hip hard, pulling her back against him. “It’ll knock me off balance, and you’ll be able to flip me over your head.”

Treya thought fast, his fingers pushed hard into the curve of her hip. He was expecting her to do as she was told. So she wouldn’t. She slid her hands free, but instead of reaching up for him, she shoved the palms of her hands into his arm, simultaneously twisting her head and pulling it down, slipping free from his grasp. She slid out from under him, and quickly stepped away. Her eyes were dark and threatening, her breathing quick now that she could actually breathe. Her hands flew up in front of her face as she prepared for his advance.

His advance never came. A smirk flashed across his face as he gave her a cold, hungry stare. “Or don’t,” he growled. He turned away from her and stopped, “what are you looking at? Get back to work!” He growled angrily at the gawking initiates before glancing back at Treya, “back to the bag initiate.” He nodded in her direction before making his way back to Four. 

“She’s going to need her training advanced,” Eric sneered.

Four shook his head, “basics first.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Advanced.
> 
> Eric recognizes that Treya is much more advanced than the average initiate. But she lacks in other aspects, specifically in her weight. She's still too thin. Will it make her an easy target?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few quick notes about this piece:  
> \- This is a multi chapter work.  
> \- This mostly follows the timeline and events from the books, but some characters and appearances are used from the movies.  
> \- This takes place about 2 years after Allegiant.  
> \- Eric, Tris, Tori, Max, and Jeanine are alive.  
> \- This piece includes a main original character.  
> \-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Treya,” Eric’s voice stopped her mid punch, and she reached out to grab the punching bag to stop it’s sway. Her head snapped in his direction. “With me,” he motioned her to him with two fingers.

Treya glanced at Four, who gave her a slight nod, before correcting an initiate on their stance. She made her way to the wall where she had left her shoes, and slipped them on before following Eric out of the training room.

She watched him cautiously, a step behind him to keep him in full view. He stopped at another training room, one Treya recognized as the target room for gun practice. He held the door open for her, and slid in behind her. 

“This way,” he lead her to a table with multiple different guns placed on top, in a row. He took his place on the opposite side of the table from her, a human shaped target looked over his shoulder from the other side of the large room. “Ever use any of these before?”

She glanced across the guns, nodding when her eyes landed on a familiar one. 

“Which?” 

“The rifle,” Treya’s voice was quiet.

Eric nodded, a smile flicking across his face, “ready your weapon initiate.”

It took a fraction of a second for Treya to understand what he was asking of her, and she quickly picked up the rifle and slid the already loaded magazine into place, hearing it click. She pulled back the rod and released it. She flicked the safety off and pressed the butt of the gun to her shoulder, and her freehand steadied the barrel. Her finger lightly resting next to the trigger as she aimed just over Eric’s shoulder at the far target. 

She saw him smirk out of the corner of her eye. “At ease initiate.”

She clicked the safety back on, and lowered the rifle. His hands were outstretched for the gun and she handed it to him gently. 

He examined the guy, the smirk never fading from his face. When satisfied she had correctly prepared the gun, he handed it back to her and came around the table to her side. He nodded to the target, and Treya raised the gun, flicked off the safety and quickly fired three shots. Each shot was a center shot to the forehead of the target. Kill shots.

Eric nodded in approval, and Treya flicked the safety back on and set the gun back down on the table. “Your weapon of choice?” Eric asked, moving back across the table from Treya. 

“Easiest to come across,” Treya mumbled. The rifles were the typical Dauntless-issued weapon to all initiates, and were available at mass supply in the Dauntless compound. Their popularity made it easy for a few to slip out of the compound and find their way into factionless hands. 

Eric nodded and stepped in front of a small revolver. “Six round, semi automatic revolver,” he stated matter-of-factly. “Fires from the bottom chamber, rather than the top. Recoil will be mostly in your hand, so it’s easy to handle.” He readied the gun quickly as Treya watched, then handed it to her to examine. 

She looked it over, then offered it back to him. He disassembled it and nodded to her. She reassembled it quickly, leaving the safety latched.

Eric moved to the next one, “another six round revolver. Not semi automatic, but it also has a low recoil.” Again he assembled it and handed it to her to examine before disassembling and letting her try.

“Submachine gun,” Eric continued, stepping in front of a large, peculiarly shaped gun. “Magazine fed, designed to fire pistol cartridges. The delayed blowback system helps reduce recoil.” He assembled the gun and handed it to her, “we have multiple versions of this, but they’re all about the same.” He took the gun back and disassembled it.

Treya quickly reassembled the gun, and laid it back down.

Eric continued this process with two more guns, a pistol and a fully automatic machine gun. “You’re a quick learner,” he smirked as Treya finished assembling the machine gun.

She stepped back from the table, her eyes on the guns.

Eric motioned her to him.

She stepped around the table to him, and he handed her the loaded semi automatic revolver, turning her to face the targets on the far side of the room. He shoved his foot between hers and kicked her legs apart. 

“Shoulder width,” his mouth was at her ear, and he was uncomfortably close. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling the gun up to aim at the target, and pressing his chest to her back. Her hands were small in his, and his covered her’s easily. 

She turned her attention to the target, trying to ignore his body against her’s; his hips squarely pressed against her and twisting as he forced her to adjust her stance. 

He kept himself there as she fired. Then picked up another gun, and had her empty it into the target. He stayed pressed to her, adjusting her stance and grip on each gun until they were all empty. 

When she set the last gun down on the table, he finally peeled himself away from her, almost reluctantly. Her back became cold as pulled away, and she twisted her neck more to hide her flushed cheeks than to stretch her muscles. 

“Impressive,” he mumbled, his smirk only growing at her discomfort. “You can return to the training room now.”

She swallowed, trying to hide her embarrassment before turning and quickly leaving the target room.

When the door clicked behind her, Eric pulled his tablet from his back pocket and quickly noted her file with his observations. Usually initiates don’t touch a gun until midway through the first stage of training, but with Treya being so advanced, Eric was curious how far her knowledge reached. 

It was impressive that she only needed to see him assemble each gun once, before being able to mimic the process herself. Her aim was impressive as well, and although she wasn’t dead center on every shot, it would only improve as she became more familiar with each gun. When it was time for the other initiates to start with their rifles, Eric knew he could start Treya on a more advanced gun. 

He smirked, remembering the hint of red in her cheeks. She wasn’t used to human touch, which wasn’t surprising. But it prided him to know he had found a vulnerable spot in such a hard exterior. She would be harder to break than most, as she didn’t respond to him the way most did. She didn’t cower and squirm under his gaze. She didn’t fear him, which only made her harder to control. She was a challenge he was excited to conquer.

——

After the first couple of days, it was apparent that Treya’s skills by far surpassed her fellow initiates. In fact, she surpassed the Dauntless born initiates. Eric had showed them the leaderboard. They were graded every day. Points were given for winning fights, bravery, and general improvement. Treya sat in the first place spot, with the number two initiate nowhere close. 

Eric had taken a special interest in her. He upped her training. He worked with her in the shooting practice room every morning, then they would move to the fighting practice room and he would teach her more advanced combat moves, which she learned quickly. Her consistent improvement only fueled the dark, hungry look he gave her.

Soon Treya found herself mainly working with Eric, and less often with Four and the other initiates. In combat, Eric’s sheer strength and size gave him an advantage. But Treya’s speed and quick thinking made her almost evenly matched. They fought in the early hours, finishing just as Four and the other initiates began to trickle into the training room. Treya would grab a quick drink of water before training with Four and the others. Four usually dismissed her early, fearing she would over exhaust herself from double training. She objected the first few times, but quickly realized it allowed her to get to the mess hall for lunch before the majority of the Dauntless hoard. She could eat in peace this way, without as many judgmental eyes on the lack of food she put on her plate.

“You’re underweight. You need to eat.” 

“I eat when I’m hungry.”

Eric growled, pushing the plate closer to her, “eat the chicken. You need protein.” He had caught on to her early lunch routine, and adjusted his own schedule to ensure she actually ate. 

Treya looked down at the plate in disgust. The large hunk of chicken, the thick mashed potatoes and rich gravy, and the grossly large pile of green peas, filled her plate. She had eaten the bread. Dauntless bread is thick and heavy, just like Dauntless members. Treya was still not used to the large proportions the Dauntless scarfed like wild animals. 

Unhappy, but obliging slightly, Treya poked at the golden brown skin of the chicken with her fork.

Eric watched for a moment, a slightly amused smirk crossed his face before he reached across the table, hooking his own fork on the lip of her plate, and pulled it towards him. He swiftly and effortlessly sliced through the chicken with his knife, cutting half of it into bite sized bits, before pushing the plate back to her.

He recognized quickly that despite being so advanced in fighting and the typical Dauntless skills that he painstakingly had to teach initiates, where Treya’s skills lacked were in the day to day activities. Factionless, being so poverty stricken, did not have basic luxuries like knives and forks, or even a hairbrush. Eric had noticed Treya’s short hair was pretty tangled when she first transferred in; it seemed to have tamed down a bit. 

Eric also recognized how fearless she was. Especially of him. Where he usually intimidated initiates, and left them scampering away like cowardly dogs, Treya was not intimidated at all. Most would cower under his dark glares, but she only matched his, feeding it right back to him. It made mocking her, something he frequently did to make new initiates uncomfortable, a little more interesting.

“Leave it to the factionless to not know how to use a knife,” he mocked with a smirk.

She gave him a glare, “you want to test that theory at practice tonight?”

He huffed, still smirking at her. “Eat your chicken.”

Treya made a sour face, but forced herself to swallow three bites of chicken before pushing the plate back again. 

Eric sighed and rolled his eyes, but took his plate and stood. Treya followed suit with her own. When they had discarded their dishes in the bucket atop the trash can, they made their way back to the training room. 

“Why don’t you stretch while we wait for the others.”

Happy to oblige this request, Treya was quick to stretch her arms and shoulders. She attempted to stretch her legs, but struggled to find a stretch suitable.

“Here,” Eric led her to the nearby wall, “back against the wall.” 

She obeyed, and he stood before her, stretching his right leg back, and lowering himself into a deep stance, knees bent. He tapped her right leg, “up.” She lifted her leg and he took her by the ankle, placing it on his shoulder, one hand on her ankle, the other on her knee, to keep it straight. Slowly, he lifted, raising her leg until her body tensed and her leg started to shake. 

“Hands up, push out with the ball of your foot. Deep breaths.”

She inhaled, her calf tensing, then exhaled slowly. He kept her there a moment before slowly raising her leg a bit as she exhaled again. Then he lowered himself again before sliding her foot from his shoulder, then pulled her left foot to his shoulder to repeat the stretch. 

Her left was tighter, and Eric slid his hand from her ankle, up to her hip, to steady her. He kept a careful watch on her, with a furrowed brow as she grimaced with each breath. 

The other initiates started to trickle in, and Michael let out a loud whistle at Treya and Eric, making his friends Nick and Stephen snicker.

Eric gave them a dark, threatening glare and the three of them hurried toward the far wall.

Four was the last in, right behind Jessica, who was almost shaking, and looked nothing less from terrified.

Eric lowered himself and helped Treya’s leg down, his grasp still firm on her hip until her foot hit the floor. He nodded towards the others and followed her to the group.

There were ten targets set up along the wall, each with a painted outline of a person, and a target painted over their chest. A table sat a few feet away, with shiny metal throwing knives,  
laid out in a row. Four picked up three knives in his left hand, and one in his right. He faced the targets, twirled the knife in his right hand, adjusted his stance, and threw. The knife stuck dead center on the target.

“Knife throwing isn’t something you will need to do too often, as Dauntless members are issued a gun upon passing initiation. But in the event where a gun is not an option, you’ll need to know how to defend yourself.” Eric’s voice was loud, almost echoing through the training room. He paced up and down the row of initiates as he spoke.

“Your stance should be a normal, strong stance, with your dominant foot forward. The suggested distance from your target is about six feet, give or take. But it is up to you to learn the distance necessary for yourself. For the sake of learning, we start you at six feet.” 

Eric nodded to the line painted on the floor, and a few initiates scooted back to stay behind the line. 

“Keep your hand relaxed. If you grip the knife too tight, your release will be to low. Too loose and your release will be to high. You release should be about eye level.”

Four threw again, demonstrating.

“Keep your wrist straight and throw directly over your shoulder. Your arm should not be out to one side. This isn’t a game of ball, these are knives.”

Four threw a third time, each knife sticking the target barely an inch from each other.

“Get yourselves some knives and get to work,” Eric growled as Four’s fourth knife wizzed just past his face as he paced. Eric glared at Four, his eyes murderous.

Treya was quick to snatch up four knives, and aligned herself with a middle target. Her stance was natural, and she fiddled with the knife in her hand a moment, before taking a half step back. She looked up at her target, squared her shoulders, and threw. The knife stuck in the center of the target. 

Eric and Four exchanged a quick glance, as the others began to throw, most of the knives bouncing off the targets. 

Again, Treya fiddled a knife, then focused on her target and threw. The second knife sunk in right next to the first, with a shing as the metal of each knife rubbed each other. Her third knife slipped out of her grasp a moment too early, but still stuck snug against the others, just slightly above. The fourth stuck to the other side of her first. 

“Step back,” Eric was right behind her, and she almost jumped in surprise. She gave him a quick glance before picking up three more knives. 

She fiddled with the knife then focused on her target, a bit longer than the first four. She threw, a bit more force behind her throw, and it slid into the center along the others. She glanced back at Eric, who was watching, arms crossed, then took two more steps back. She brushed her hair from her eyes, and focused on her target, then threw with more power. Again, it stuck a bit too high, but still within the center ring of the target. Her jaw clenched, unhappy with the result. She looked down at the knife, then flipped it, holding it by the tip of the blade instead of the handle. She threw, force and determination behind it. It sank in between her first and second knives, pushing the two out at an angle, but dead center of the target.

Four and Eric exchanged looks before Eric stepped up behind her, his mouth at her ear as he whispered, “guess factionless do know how to use a knife.”

——

They had continued practice for an hour. The other initiates were slower to make progress. Eric had shown Treya underhand throwing, and although each knife had stuck in the target, she had yet to get one dead center.

Eric had paced behind them, growling orders to keep wrists straight. When he barked at Jessica after her knife missed completely and bounced on the floor just short of the target, telling her to put some power into it, and throw with meaning, she visibly cowered back. It only fueled Eric as he told her to buck up and stop being a coward.

Treya could see the redness flush the girl’s cheeks as tears started to swell in her eyes.

Eric stormed off to another initiate, and Treya slipped over to Jessica. 

“Put your other arm out in front of you. Put it level with where you want to hit your target. Bring that arm back as you throw, and make sure to twist your hips.

Jessica tried again, her knife made it far enough, but bounced off the side of the target.

“You’re from Amnity, right?”

The girl nodded, still visibly upset.

“When the boys chop wood for the dinner fire, they bring the axe straight down in front of them. It’s the same when you throw. Bring your arm straight down.”

Jessica tried again. Her knife hit the target, a little low, but it stuck in the target. Her face brightened.

Treya slipped back to her own target, noticing that both Eric and Four were watching her; Four with an impressed look, and Eric with dark amusement.

“Alright, get out,” Eric called, “we’re done for the day.”

The initiates hurried to leave, disposing their knives on the table, and quickly grabbing their belongings, eager to get to dinner.

Treya was slower, picking up the knives that had fallen to the floor, and straightening them on the table with the others.

“Think you can teach better than your trainers, factionless?”

Treya continued to straighten the knives, ignoring Eric for a moment before responding quietly, “she wasn’t receptive to you snarling at her like a rabid dog.”

He glared at her, his eyes murderous.

She glared back, matching his stare. 

When he realized she wasn’t going to back down, his eyes narrowed. “You aren’t afraid of me.”

Treya’s eyes were still cold, as she snapped back, quietly “should I be?”

The corners of Eric’s mouth turned down in disgust, his upper lip curled in an almost snarl, “if you know what’s good for you.”

A slight smirk crossed Treya’s face. She was catching onto his tactics. Eric liked to play mind games. Part of what made him so menacing was that not only could he physically hurt you if he wanted, he didn’t have to touch you to strike you. Dauntless have always been a fan of traditional weapons, but Eric had another at his disposal; his words. And he knew exactly how much snarl to put behind his words to intimidate anyone. An old Erudite habit that hadn’t completely died off in his Dauntless training. It made him lethal.

Treya’s responses kept him on his toes. Many times she would let his comments slide without retort. Other times, she fed his venomous words right back at him. She never enjoyed playing the mind games Eric perfected, because it was too easy. Erudite and Candor both knew how to be brutal in their words, especially when it was about another’s weakness. Erudite did it for their own benefit, and Candor because they just had no filter. But there was nothing strong or brave about exploiting another’s weakness. If Treya wanted a fight of any kind, she wanted her opponent equally matched. A fight without a challenge was boring. 

The two were equally matched in wit, almost equally matched in physical fighting abilities. But where Eric thrived on his own dark amusement, Treya was humble with her abilities. She didn’t enjoy flaunting her skills, but she wouldn’t think twice about stepping up to a challenge.

She had retrieved her jacket from its spot along the wall, before heading back over to Eric, who was still watching her with a scowl. She flashed him an amused smirk, “I could say the same to you, tough guy.” She slung her jacket over one shoulder before turning and leaving Eric to pull the knives out of the targets.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Physical
> 
> There is no question that Treya is the strongest initiate this year, but is she physically fit to be a full member of Dauntless?  
> A girl with a dark past, should she even be here?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few quick notes about this piece:  
> \- This is a multi chapter work.  
> \- This mostly follows the timeline and events from the books, but some characters and appearances are used from the movies.  
> \- This takes place about 2 years after Allegiant.  
> \- Eric, Tris, Tori, Max, and Jeanine are alive.  
> \- This piece includes a main original character.  
> \-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

His first report to Jeanine had been a basic rundown of her skill levels and his plan for her further training.

His second report was a bit more detailed. He highlighted her double training, outlining his one on one training with her, which consisted mostly of hand to hand combat, weight and endurance training. Then her training with Four, which was the basic initiate training, but altered to her heightened skill level. Eric noted her ability to quickly learn, needing only a brief demonstration before being able to perform the given task.

He expressed his concerns as well. Her eating habits had not improved. She still only ever ate a few bites of food, even with his encouragement. He had noticed she favored apples, beans, and bread. He had started grabbing an apple with his own meal, and setting it next to her before he would sit down across from her. He never saw her eat the second apple, but it always found its way into her jacket pocket, and he assumed she ate it later.

Because of her eating habits, she hadn’t gained much weight. Give or take a pound or two, she was still nothing more than muscle on bone. She was strong, but she looked frail. A little fat was healthy, and she could use some. In their sparing, he had noticed a slight increase in her weight, which was good, but she still had a ways to go.

Eric had also noticed a slight limp in her walk. It had not affected her training in any way, and she was very good at concealing it, but he had noticed it seemed a bit more prominent after their early morning sparring. He had scheduled a physical examination for later in the day, and promised to record its results in his next report.

When his report finally sent, he shut his laptop and pushed it from the edge of his desk. He sat quietly for a moment, mauling over tactics to get her to eat, which frequently crossed his mind. He was charged with her success in Dauntless, and although she didn’t need much help with that, she wasn’t going to succeed if she starved to death prior to the final initiate tests. 

A knock on his office door snapped him away from his thoughts. “What?” He called, annoyance thick in his tone.

The door clicked open and a bald head slipped in. A wide toothy grin, nestled in a trimmed red beard, greeted Eric. “Oy, what are you doing there, brother?”

Eric leaned back in his chair with a bored look, “just finished my report. What do you want, Gregory?” 

Gregory slid into Eric’s office, his smile never waning. The two had been friends since their initiation into Dauntless, and were quite the opposite of one another. Where Eric was cold and venomous, Gregory was playful and positive.

“Trip to go see Bob might cheer you up.”

Eric rolled his eyes. I don’t need cheering up.”

Gregory’s smile widened, “you always need cheering up. Come on, Isaac will meet us there.”

Eric rolled his eyes again, but stood and followed Gregory out of the office and to the elevator. He let Gregory fill the silence as they made their way to the tattoo parlor. He talked mostly about the tattoo he was planning; some abstract phoenix on his chest.

When the two ducked inside the parlor, Isaac was already on the table, head down, with his dark hair hanging off the edge of the table. Tori, a tall and slender woman, with long, dreaded black hair, was busy on his back, tattoo gun in hand. She had just gotten the tattoo gun out of the way when Gregory gave Isaac and playful slap on his fresh ink.

Isaac hollered, almost jumping off the table. He gave Gregory a glare when Tori yelled at him to lay back down. 

A bald, muscular man, skin barely showing through the black tattoos that covered his body, with large piercings in his lip, nose and ears, walked up behind Eric, who was still watching Gregory tease Isaac, much to the displeasure of Tori.

“Ink or metal today?”

Eric turned, giving Bob a slight smile, “not today, just tagging along with these two fools,” he motioned to Gregory and Isaac. 

Bob nodded, “you could probably stretch those lobes next week if you want to drop by.” He then turned and headed over to another Dauntless in the corner, before Eric could respond.

Eric always did enjoy his time in the parlor. Bob had been doing his tattoos and piercings since initiate training, and despite Eric’s fear landscape depicting him with hundreds of curved needles, hooking through his flesh, Eric always embraced the sting of the tattoo gun, and the pulling of the piercing needle. However, the masochistic pleasantries of the parlor would have to wait for another day. 

He checked his watch before bidding farewell to his fellow Dauntless, and heading back out to the stairs and down the perimeter of the pit. Treya’s training should be done for the day, and her check up at the infirmary was in thirty minutes, unbeknownst to her.

He was lucky. She stayed behind the other initiates as they hurried out of the training room, eager for dinner. He found her and Four still in the training room; Four wrapping a bandage across her knuckles. 

“I’m sure the other guy looks worse,” Eric mumbled as he approached the two.

Treya looked annoyed as Four shook his head “I already had Stephen sent to the infirmary.” He looked up at Treya from her bandaged hand “you knocked his teeth out, you know.”

Eric turned his attention to Treya, “you win the fight?”

Four shook his head again, “fighting would mean you’re in the ring, being watched by a trainer.”

Eric raised an eyebrow. Initiates fighting outside of the ring was frowned upon, as many initiates still don’t know what they’re doing.

“He’s a misogynistic asshole who had it coming.”

Eric huffed, “what did he say to you?” He didn’t particularly care, he was more curious what sent her over the edge.

“Not to her,” Four answered, annoyance in his voice. “He was running his mouth at Jessica.”

Eric looked from Treya to Four, then back to Treya. “So you what? Punched him?”

“In the mouth,” growled Four, letting go of Treya’s hand, satisfied with the bandage. “His teeth cut up her knuckles, and he’s in the infirmary, seeing what they can do to fix his teeth.”

Eric nodded, mauling over the situation.

Treya expected harsh words about being a team, and not attacking team members, but the lecture never came. Instead, Eric nodded toward the door, “come, you have an appointment.”

Treya’s brow furrowed, unsure of what he was talking about, but followed nonetheless as Four shook his head and departed for the mess hall.

At the infirmary, Eric signed Treya in, and it was only a moment before a middle aged woman with short, spiked, bleach blonde hair called “Treya Price?” Her eyes darting towards Eric at the familiarity of the name. The woman gave Treya a good look over, “You’re Thane Price’s daughter. You look just like him.”

Treya tensed at her father’s name, and Eric gave her a puzzled look.

The woman’s hard eyes bore into Treya, “I’ve had many patients from his temper and sadistic tendencies.”

Treya finally composed, shooting the woman a dark glare. 

The woman’s eyes narrowed as she straightened herself up a bit, “I’m Anne, I’m the head nurse here at Dauntless. I’ll be administering your exam.”

“My exam?” Treya’s tone was dark.

Anne looked to Eric again, then back at Treya, “your physical exam.”

“It’s routine. All initiates get a physical exam,” Eric sounded slightly annoyed and bored.

Anne turned, “follow me.”

The two followed her to an exam room, and Anne shut the door once they were all in. Eric sat in a vacant chair in the corner, and Treya crawled onto the exam table after Anne’s coaxing.

Eric pulled a small computer tablet from his jacket pocket, and busied himself with its contents.

Anne grabbed Treya’s wrist and checked her pulse. She then slid a small clamp with a long cord, onto Treya’s finger. Treya’s vitals popped up on a screen on the wall behind her. Seeming satisfied with the vitals, Anne ordered Treya to open her mouth. “That back tooth bother you?”

Treya shook her head, and Anne noted something on the small computer tablet in her hand. 

Anne took the stylus pen from the top of her tablet and clicked its side button. A bright light lit up on its end, and Anne flashed it in Treya’s eyes a few time. Her brow furrowed, “look over my left ear, and don’t move.” Again she flashed the light in Treya’s eyes, first the right, then the left. Then the left again. She turned off the light and jotted more notes on her tablet.

She instructed Treya to stand, and Anne tapped a few times on her tablet. A blue light lit up on one end of the tablet, and Anne slowly scanned it across Treya’s body, head to toe.

The light flicked off.

On the wall screen, Treya’s vitals vanished, and a scan of her body appeared, with certain areas highlighted.

“Nothing broken currently. But you’ve had some pretty serious injuries in the past, haven’t you?”

Treya didn’t respond, still studying the screen.

Anne motioned Treya back onto the exam table, “take off your shirt, pants and boots. You can leave your underwear on.”

Treya’s eyes flashed over to Eric, who had formerly been very attentive to his own computer tablet in his lap, was now alert, watching Treya and Anne.

Anne looked from Eric to Treya, “out Coulter.”

Eric flashed an angry glare at Anne, his jaw tense. 

Anne looked back to him, her eyes and voice stern, “out.” Apparently Treya wasn’t the only one who wasn’t intimidated by Eric’s angry demeanor.

Reluctantly, Eric stood to leave, his angry glare still on Anne. 

Treya sighed, “it’s fine.” She was slightly annoyed with the whole situation. She had been careful to conceal herself in the barracks; showering late after everyone was asleep, or early before everyone was awake. She wasn’t going to get out of stripping down for Anne, and she figured the woman would just report back to Eric, since he was her trainer. There was no hiding.

She angrily kicked off her boots, before sliding off the exam table, onto her bare feet. She unbuckled the Dauntless issued belt and wiggled out of her training pants, overly aware of both Eric and Anne watching her. She sat back on the table before pulling off her long sleeved shirt.

Eric and Anne gave her a hard look over. Treya’s body was littered with scars. Small circular burn marks covered her chest, peaking out of a tight wrap that bound her. Long white scars crisscrossed her upper arms, and a thick white scar trailed down her left side. More small circles littered her thighs, overlapping a few faded scars. 

“What’s this for?” Anne had stepped between Eric and Treya, blocking his view of her, and tapped the wrap on Treya’s chest.

Treya bowed her head, slightly embarrassed, “for training. I don’t have a-“ her voice trailed off.

Anne nodded, the realization hitting her. “Coulter,” she nodded her head to the far wall, and he moved there without question, his eyes still on Treya.

Anne turned Treya on the table, so her back was to Eric, then she slowly unwrapped her.

Eric’s eyes scanned over Treya’s back, and the long crisscrossing scars that marked her. His brow furrowed, his eyes darkened. It was in Treya’s file that she had been abused as a young child. Her father, a Dauntless traitor, was notorious for having a short temper, and a lust for causing pain. He had raised his son to have his same short fuse and sadistic appetite, and when he was banished to be factionless, his son willingly followed. It seemed Treya, as a small child, had fallen victim to their dark cravings.

Treya’s fearlessness made sense to him now. She wasn’t afraid of others because she grew up with monstrous people. She learned to fight out of a need to survive, and she was quick to defend others who were weaker, because she knows what it’s like to abused by someone much larger and stronger than her.

Treya’s arms crossed over her chest when the wrap finally fell free from her body. Her head still bowed.

“I don’t want you to use this anymore. You wrap it so tight, it could cause problems.” Anne’s eyes shot up to Eric, catching his gaze before she looked back to Treya. “Get yourself a good bra. It will give you the same support without cutting off circulation like the wrap.”

Treya swallowed hard. She was embarrassed to be so exposed in front of a woman she had only just met, and her trainer who she had worked so hard to convince that she was a strong warrior. She didn’t like letting people in, and opening up to them. She didn’t like her past being brought to the surface, and the pity that always came with it. She didn’t want or need pity.

“I don’t have any money,” she finally mumbled.

“All initiates receive credits when they start training. You can use them in the shops. Just let them know you’re going to use your credits.” Eric leaned against the wall, his eyes narrow as he continued to examine Treya’s back. For once, there was no malice in his voice.

Anne glanced up at Eric as she picked up the wrap and moved it away from Treya. “I’m keeping this,” she stated, giving Treya a serious look. After setting the wrap on a far table, she took hold of Treya’s left shoulder, before raising her arm and feeling her shoulder from all directions. She move Treya’s arm in a few different ways, while her fingers dug around her shoulder.

Anne had Treya put her shirt back on, before lying her back on the table. She roughly grabbed Treya’s right hip, her fingers digging into it. She moved Treya’s right leg around as she felt her hip. Her brow furrowed, but she let go after a moment, and allowed Treya to redress.

She jotted down more notes in her tablet, before asking “Treya, are you sexually active?”

Treya looked up from her boot, glancing from Anne to Eric, then back to Anne, “not currently,” she almost stuttered.

Anne looked up from her tablet, her eyes hard. She straightened herself with a sigh before heading out of the exam room, motioning for Eric to follow.

When the door had shut behind the two, Anne abruptly turned around, and gave Eric a stern, warning glare. “Are you sleeping with her?”

Eric’s brow furrowed, “why would you ask that?”

Anne turned her tablet around so he could see the screen. Treya’s body scan was on one side, highlighting her left eye, left shoulder, right hip, and her pelvis. “Areas still affected by former traumas. Eric if you’re sleeping with her, it better be consensual or so help me, I will make sure you’re brought before the other leaders.”

Eric growled, “I don’t make a habit of sleeping with initiates. Don’t get it confused which trainer you’re talking to.”

Anne continued to give him a stern look, but her body relaxed. She believed him. She knew Eric was rough. She had administered contraceptives to his partners in the past, and their body scans always light up like a Candor Christmas tree. But this time, it wasn’t because of him.

“She has rental damage in her left eye. She probably struggles more at night or in dim lights.”

Eric huffed, “So in all of Dauntless.”

“She has some cartilage damage in her shoulder and hip. Her shoulder has some slight inflammation, but nothing too concerning. Her hip however,” Anne sighed before she continued, “I’m guessing she broke it when she was young, and it didn’t heal properly. There’s some serious clicking and grinding there.” 

Eric nodded. His jaw had relaxed once Anne’s accusations ceased, and he listened with a concerned look. “Should she be training at all?”

Anne let out a dramatic sigh, “I’m surprise she’s not in more pain than she is. I’m not opposed to writing her a script for pain meds. As far as training, yeah, she can train, I suppose. She probably shouldn’t, but I don’t think you could stop her if you tried.”

Eric nodded again, before signing his name on Anne’s tablet. As her trainer, he needed to sign off on her medical records, saying she was fit to continue.

Anne wandered off, letting Eric open the door to retrieve Treya.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Past.
> 
> Treya's past is catching up to her. She's finding it harder to keep it a secret. How can you hide something that is such a key part of who you are? With details of her past coming closer to the surface, Treya must figure out how to balance it's darkness with her presence in Dauntless.
> 
> Eric's reputation seems to still find a way to worm into the man he is now. The man he has become after his accident.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few quick notes about this piece:  
> \- This is a multi chapter work.  
> \- This mostly follows the timeline and events from the books, but some characters and appearances are used from the movies.  
> \- This takes place about 2 years after Allegiant.  
> \- Eric, Tris, Tori, Max, and Jeanine are alive.  
> \- This piece includes a main original character.  
> \-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She was on his mind all night. 

He let the cool water wash over him as his mind wandered to her. He wasn’t surprised she had physical damage. He had read her file multiple times over and was familiar of her messed up past.

She was stronger than the other initiates. Her mentality was unwavering, despite the constant pain her body was in. She probably had grown used to the pain, the same way Eric had grown used to the constant throbbing in his head. Most of the time he was able to push the throbbing to the back of his thoughts, allowing himself to function normally without the throbbing hindering him. He wondered if Treya did the same.

He remembered her sideways glance at Anne’s questioning. Was she embarrassed at answering in front of him; the way she was when Anne unwrapped her scarred body? There wasn’t much that affected her in a way that caused her to outwardly show discomfort, but there was no doubt that she was uncomfortable with him there. Her tolerance for pain was exceedingly high, and Eric wondered if it wasn’t the tightly bound wrap digging into her skin that was uncomfortable, and rather his presence in the situation. 

That had to be it. She would never willingly show her own pain. 

Was she embarrassed that he saw her? Embarrassed that she couldn’t hide herself from him? 

Eric wasn’t used to females shying away from him. Dauntless girls were usually too eager to show themselves off. Nothing was too taboo for them.

Treya shied away. She wasn’t like the Dauntless girls, and no doubt her past had conditioned her to react this way. Was she worried what his opinion would be; what he would think of her? Would she be surprised if she knew it only made him more intrigued?

Eric switched the shower water to cold; needing to stand in the ice cold water for a moment before switching it off and grabbing his towel.

——

If Eric pitied Treya after her physical exam, he didn’t show it. In fact, his training had gotten tougher. He demanded Treya push herself even harder, and she was happy to do so.

Her fighting continued to improve, and fighting her fellow initiates was no longer fair.

“Treya, in the ring” Eric hollered across the training room.

She quickly slid off her boots and stepped onto the mats. She looked around, wondering who her opponent was going to be. Her eyes fell onto a tall, muscular man with a bald head and red beard, standing next to Eric. He wasn’t an initiate, he was a full member of Dauntless, and looked to be around Eric and Four’s age.

The man pulled his black shirt off, revealing tight, washboard abs, and thick muscular arms that were covered in black tattooed swirls. The word “strength” was inked in an arch across his rigid stomach. He flashed Treya a wide, hungry smile, and stepped onto the mat.

Treya’s eyes flashed over to Eric, unsure if this man was her opponent. In that moment, he swung his arm at her head. Treya leaned back barely quick enough to dodge his fist. Her hands flew up in front of her, blocking another swing from him. 

Treya watched him, analyzing his movements, looking for weaknesses. He gave no sign of advancement before attacks, and he was swift. He was light on his feet, and it was all Treya could do to keep up with him.

His fist collided with her chin, and she staggered back a step. He swung again, and Treya ducked, landing a solid punch to his ribs, and then a elbow to the back of his shoulder. She stepped away from him, and he turned, his eyes angry. He lashed out at her again, but she slid to his left, grabbing his left arm and brought it down as hard as she could across her knee. He let out a pained growl, and clutched his arm for a moment. Again he lashed out, and she ducked, but his arm came down around her head, holding her captive. He gave a hard jab to her stomach, then another, then a third.

Treya’s breath caught in her throat and she gasped loudly, trying to breathe again after his punch forced the wind out of her. She reached out and grabbed his knee, her fingers curling into its soft underside. She dug her fingers in, finding the pressure point there. Suddenly his knee buckled, and he let go of her to catch his balance. 

She lashed out with her right arm, but he grabbed her wrist, simultaneously sliding behind her, and giving her shoulder a hard punch. She heard the pop before she felt it, but when the hot white pain seared through her arm, she let out a loud yelp. He had let go of her, the wide smile back on his face at his triumph.

Her breath labored with pain and exhaustion, she turned to face him, switching her feet and putting her right foot forward, prepared to fight with the opposite side.

He watched her, then lunged again. She spun backwards, lifting her leg and kicking him in the temple with her heel. The force from her kick in such a specific spot, was enough to cause his eyes to roll back in his head, and his body drop to the floor like dead weight. The smile faded from his face.

Treya panted, her body still tense.

“Nick, Stephen, get Gregory off the floor,” Eric growled.

The two hurried over to the man, as he slowly became conscious again, rubbing his head with a pained expression.

“Treya, you should head down to the infirmary and get your shoulder checked out,” Four suggested.

Treya’s body relaxed slightly, realizing the fight was over. She stepped off the mat, and made her way to Eric, her breathing still heavy. When she stood before him, she turned her back to him, “pop it back in.”

Eric’s eyebrows raised in surprise at her request.

“Treya, you should really have Anne do that,” Four urged.

Eric uncrossed his arms, pulling her to him, and reaching around her and across her chest. He held onto her shoulder tightly, noticing her wince at his touch, and took her arm in his other hand. 

Her shoulder quivered under his force, but finally her arm popped back into socket. Again the white hot pain shot down her arm, her fingertips going numb for a moment. Then the pain subsided and dulled. She winced as it popped, and Eric held her body tight to his, his arm still across her chest and holding her shoulder still.

“Next fight, Michael and Oliver.” His voice travelled through Treya, and she could feel Eric’s chest vibrate with his words. 

“She should really go to the infirmary,” Four cautioned.

Eric gave him a sideways glance, “she knows what her body can handle.” His mouth was then at Treya’s ear “relax, and watch the fight. Tell me what you see.”

Treya’s breathing slowed, and her brow furrowed at his request, but she obliged, analyzing the two fighters, “Ollie is fast, and light on his feet, but he steps before he punches. Michael is strong, but too tense. It makes him slow.”

“What else,” he mumbled into her ear.

“Michael is too aggressive. His reaction to attacks is delayed because he’s too used to being on the offense.” Treya sighed, “Ollie has good reaction time, but he’s too busy showing off.”

“You don’t like a show off?”

Treya huffed, wincing as her shoulder shrugged habitually. “Fights aren’t for showing off. You fight to protect yourself, you fight to keep your skills sharp. No one likes a show off.”

Eric huffed, almost laughing, “How very factionless.”

Treya’s jaw tightened. She knew Dauntless enjoyed fighting for fun, and showing off their strength and fearlessness. Many of the factionless enjoyed a good play fight and show off, but not Treya.

Oliver and Michael’s fight ended with Oliver tripping himself up on fancy footwork, and Michael bringing his elbow down on Oliver’s face. Michael celebrated his victory, bragging to his friends Nick and Stephen, while Oliver’s brother Logan dragged him off the mat, laughing at his brother’s mistake.

Eric released the initiates for an early lunch. 

“How’s the shoulder?”

Treya glared up at the bald headed man, who had joined Eric and Treya as the other initiates scattered out of the room. 

Treya shrugged Eric off her shoulder, “it’s fine.”

The man laughed, “you should probably let it rest a bit.”

“It’s fine,” Treya growled.

The man shrugged, “good fight there though lass. I can see how you got top spot. You’ve got a good reverse hook kick.”

Treya’s jaw clenched, still wary of the man. 

“Gregory ranked third in our class. I figured you could use a challenge,” Eric smirked.

Gregory stuck out his hand for Treya to shake. She did not oblige. 

“Feisty little thing,” Gregory chucked, looking to Eric, “can tell she’s your little pet, your attitude’s rubbed off on her.” 

Eric shot him a glare, which Gregory responded to with a hearty laugh, before clapping Eric on the shoulder, and giving Treya a wink.

Treya’s eyes widened for a split second at the flirtatious gesture.

“Put your shirt on Gregory, no one needs to see that before lunch.” Eric rolled his eyes.

Gregory let out a soft tsk before tugging his shirt back over his head. “Gotta let the ladies have a good show,” his eyes were on Treya as he softly bit his lip and gave her a hard look over.

“Get lost Gregory, or I’ll let her kick your ass again,” Eric growled.

Gregory laughed again, “I’ll see ya lass. Eric, we’re going to Bob’s tonight after supper, if ya wanna come.” He didn’t wait for Eric to respond, before he turned and jogged out of the training room.

Treya gave Eric a hard look, “your friend is...different.”

Eric huffed. He and Gregory were quite the opposite, but he had always managed to make Eric laugh. Eric was never quick to let people get close to him, and he was always guarded. But those who found no threat in him were the ones he was drawn to.

“Come with me,” he mumbled, a hand on Treya’s back to guide her out of the room.

——

Eric’s apartment was just as cold as he was. 

The walls were painted white, the tile floor was white, the bright lights were white. 

He had coaxed Treya through the front door, and she stood just inside it, taking in the sights. To her left was a small living room, with a large black screen on the far left wall, a dark grey couch sat in front of it, complimented with a matching grey chair along the same side as the screen. There were bookshelves in the corner of the far wall, and Treya wondered why a Dauntless would have such a collection of books. To Treya’s right was a peninsula countertop with two barstools pushed underneath it. A sink sat at the end of the counter, opposite a glass top stove. There was a tall metal refrigerator in the corner of the small kitchen, and in the opposite corner of the kitchen was a large pantry.

Directly across from the front door was another door, and Treya assumed that was Eric’s bedroom. To its right, opposite the kitchen, was a second door. Bathroom perhaps.

“Have a seat.”

Treya slowly made her way to the countertop, her arms crossed over her chest. “You still haven’t told me why I’m here.”

Eric was rummaging through a cabinet next to the stove, and pulled out a skillet to set on the stovetop before asking “you don’t like Dauntless food, because it’s too heavy. Right?”

Treya didn’t respond, but watched him curiously.

Eric glanced over his shoulder at her, before taking a sideways step to open the refrigerator. It wasn’t overly full, but Treya could see brightly colored fruits and vegetables, a tray of thawing chicken, a few condiments, a bowl of eggs, and a pitcher of water. Eric pulled out a bright red apple and set it in front of Treya before pulling out the chicken. “You can start with that.”

Treya eyed the apple, her brow furrowed. She looked back at Eric who was busy cooking the chicken. “So you’re cooking?”

“No, I’m planting daisies,” it took Treya a moment to catch the subtle sarcasm in his voice.

She watched him as he pulled out a second pot and began to boil water before dumping a rice-like substance into it that he retrieved from the pantry. “You’re cooking for two, I hope,” she noted the amount of food he seemed to be preparing.

“I was planning on force feeding you twice your weight in food.”

Treya’s eyes narrowed at the back of his head, and her expression didn’t change when he glanced over his shoulder and added, “but I’d prefer to eat to, if you’ll share.”

It was everything she could do not to roll her eyes. He wasn’t so sarcastic with the other initiates, and Treya wondered if it was because she didn’t fear the brooding demeanor he usually gave.

Thirty minutes later, he set a plate in front of her. The chicken, already cut, was perfectly white on the inside, and soft brown on the outside. There was a small portion of a rice-like mixture, but shaped more like small balls than elongated rice, and a bright green lettuce mixture with dried red berries on top. 

Treya’s brow furrowed slightly at the plate. It was definitely not the typical Dauntless food, but what was more surprising was that it was cooked and prepared by Eric. Treya had never before envisioned him hovered over a stove.

“Dauntless cooks tend to use a lot of oil and butter. I don’t care for it either.”

Treya glanced up at him as he set a glass of water in front of her, and slid her a fork. “What is this,” she motioned toward the small brown pile next to her chicken.

“Couscous, a kind of pasta, but not as heavy or filling.” He stood, leaned up against the opposite counter, next to the stove, his own plate and fork in hand.

Treya tried a small bite. It wasn’t bad. It paired nicely with the chicken, and soon Treya found herself scooping both together, into her mouth. When the two were gone, she poked at the dried berries on top of her salad.

Eric watched her a moment, before noting, “they’re supposed to be like that. Dried cranberries.”

Treya’s brow furrowed, “usually when fruit looks like that, you shouldn’t eat it.”

“That’s because those are the rotten ones out of the Amnity crop you steal. These aren’t rotten. They’re dried.”

Treya eyed him. He wasn’t trying to be snide. He recognized that most factionless food was either canned that was given to them from Abnegation, or stolen from Amnity. Factionless didn’t come into contact with much else. He wasn’t condemning her thievery, just acknowledging it.

“The sweetness counters the bitter lettuce. I wouldn’t advise eating it alone,” he noted, watching her stab it with her fork, “I’m guessing you aren’t used to sweet foods.”

She heeded his advice, stabbing at the lettuce as well. He was right, it was sweet, and she probably wouldn’t have liked it by itself, but with the lettuce it was fine. It was a bit more chewy than she anticipated, however.

She didn’t completely clean her plate, but Eric seemed satisfied with what she ate, and he quietly cleaned their plates and the skillet and pot. It wasn’t nearly as filling and heavy as the Dauntless food in the mess hall, but she was full nonetheless.

“Tomorrow is visiting day,” he didn’t turn to look at her as he scrubbed the skillet.

Treya had made her way over to the bookshelves in the far corner, and was scanning the spines of the books. A lot of faction-lovers might be surprised to find that a factionless-born could read and write, but having so many banished faction members, there were enough people to teach young factionless the basics like any other child. After Evelyn had taken her in, Treya studied reading and writing from a former Erudite woman named Edith. The woman had left her faction after being ridiculed for her radical belief in an all powerful being. She was happy to teach the young factionless children reading, writing, and arithmetic. Treya had always admired how happy the woman was, even on the brink of death. She had always told Treya that there were two kinds of people who weren’t afraid of death: those who saw it as inevitable, and those who believed in what came after. Treya only had positive memories of the woman, and the books on Eric’s shelves reminded her of Edith.

Eric had finished with the skillet, and set it on the counter to dry. He had turned, and watched Treya slowly scan over the books. His eyes narrowed as he studied her. She was very lost in thought and unaware of his comment towards her, so he waited and watched patiently. He wondered if she had ever read a book, if she could even read, and what she thought about is large collection of them. 

“You’re studying me,” Treya mumbled, not looking away from the books.

Eric straightened himself, still watching her curiously.

“Why?”

He made his way out of the kitchen, and over towards her. She never looked away from the books, so he stood just behind her, watching. “What do you think?”

Her head shifted slightly towards him, but she kept reading the titles, “I think it’s a surprisingly large selection for a Dauntless.”

Eric was quiet, his brow slightly furrowed, curiously.

“Mostly nonfiction. You learn how to cook from those cookbooks?” She nodded her head to a few oversized books on the bottom shelf. 

“You can learn a lot of things from books.”

Treya’s mouth twitched into a smile for a slight moment, “How very Erudite of you.” She looked over her shoulder at him, flashing that smile again, “I guess old habits die hard, huh?”

He tilted his head, and she turned back to the books, “not all Dauntless are just a bunch of meatheads.”

“I never thought they were,” her voice seemed to drift off as she continued to scan the books. Her fingertips brushed across one of the many anatomy books. “It’s very interesting, how people are still stuck in their old ways; caught between the nature of what their chosen faction is, and the nurture of the faction they were raised in.”

Eric’s brow furrowed a bit more as he waited for her to continue.

She turned to face him, “for example, you were raised Erudite, now you are a Dauntless leader, making decisions for your faction based on proven methods.” When he didn’t respond, she continued, “how many Amnity-born are Dauntless cooks? How many Erudite-born work in intelligence?” Again she paused.

He took a deep breath, mauling over her words.

“Look at Andrew Prior, he was an Erudite-born, working as an Abnegation government official. Look at Four, he came from Abnegation, where they put others before themselves. Is he not doing that as a Dauntless trainer?”

“And where does that leave you?” Eric cut her off, getting her point.

She huffed, “laughing at you faction-lovers and your futile attempts to conform into one distinct category.”

Eric narrowed his eyes, a smirk flashing across his face, “and you’re not attempting to conform into Dauntless by choosing and participating in Dauntless initiation?”

Treya was quiet a moment, her eyes darkening into a glare, “just because I can pass Dauntless initiation, doesn’t mean I’m Dauntless.” She let her words hang in the air, uncomfortably, for a moment before she turned back to the bookshelves, “you were talking about visitation.”

Eric was quiet a moment, studying her once again. She had seemed almost pained by her statement about not being Dauntless. He wondered if she was worried that initiation might actually conform her, or if she really wanted to be a part of the faction, and something else was holding her back. But he allowed her to change the subject, “Yes, families of transfer initiates get to visit and share a meal.”

Treya didn’t respond.

Eric knew Treya wasn’t in touch with her blood relatives. She had been a victim of their abuse as a child, and wanted nothing to do with them. “It’s only for immediate family, so Evelyn will not be permitted to visit.”

“I figured she wouldn’t be allowed anyway,” Treya’s voice trailed off, a hint of longing lingered in it.

“I actually advise against participating. Usually makes the break of faction before blood a bit more difficult.”

Treya nodded. 

Eric sighed, “come, training will be starting soon.” He almost regretted the somber feeling he caused.

——

The stretching was uncomfortable, but not painful, and Eric had come to enjoy the uncomfortable feeling. Bob’s hands were firm and deliberate as he slid a new gauge in place. Bob wasn’t much of a talker when he worked. He wasn’t much of a talker at all, and Eric preferred it that way. Their interactions were always quiet; Bob would go about his work, and Eric would wallow in the uncomfortable feeling of the tattoo gun or the piercing needle. Pain was humbling to Eric. It reminded him how fragile life was, and how weak the human body was. A weakness he was determined to overcome.

Eric sat up when Bob was done. He slid off the table and made his way over to Isaac. He examined the tattoo Tori was inking into Isaac’s back. It was a large black flame, similar to the Dauntless symbol, but with clouds of grey swirling around it.

“How long have you been working on this piece?”

Isaac grumbled, not enjoying the pain the way Eric usually did, “this is my fourth session.”

“A lot of work in that,” Eric noted.

“Took me an hour to come up with the design, another hour to size it up this big. Then each session has been four hours,” Tori mumbled, not glancing up from Isaac’s back. 

Eric watched her hand glide over Isaac’s skin, the muscles in her arm tense to keep her hand steady. Eric didn’t know much about Tori, other than that she was on the opposite side of the faction when Dauntless split during the uprising. Because of that, he kept his distance. 

Isaac turned his head towards Eric, as he laid on the table, “so what’s with this chick?”

Eric furrowed his brow.

“Gregory says you’ve got some chick you’re training?” Isaac asked through gritted teeth.

Eric gave him a bored look, “she’s just an initiate.”

“So why isn’t Four and Lauren teaching her?”

Eric sighed, his eyes rolling slightly, “she’s too advanced for them to teach along side the other initiates.”

“Too advanced huh? Dauntless born?”

“No,” Eric corrected, “the factionless transfer.”

Tori’s eyes darted up at Eric, but she said nothing.

“Factionless,” Isaac’s voice was that of slight disbelief. “They got fighters in factionless?”

“Mm,” Eric mumbled, bored.

“And she’s that good huh?”

“Good enough to kick Gregory’s ass,” Eric smirked.

“Yeah, well if it’s a chick, Gregory will be too busy showing off and not paying attention to the fight.”

Eric huffed, smirking again, “she knocked him cold.”

Isaac huffed this time, and Tori shot him a glare, not wanting to mess up her work. “Gregory said she’s pretty hot.”

“Did he now,” it was more of a statement than a question. 

“You tapping that?”

Eric shot him a warning glare, noticing Tori pull the tattoo gun away momentarily to listen, and Bob almost choke on his drink in the corner.

“Are you?”

“No Isaac. You’re as bad as Gregory,” Eric growled.

Isaac shrugged, and Tori started the gun again.

“Why does everyone assume I fuck initiates?”

“Cause you’re the hit it and quit it guy,” Isaac gritted his teeth again.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

Isaac groaned, “Eric when was the last time you had an actual relationship? More than a one night stand?”

Eric was quiet, knowing Isaac wasn’t actually looking for an answer. Since joining Dauntless, Eric had only slept around with girls, never committing to a singular one. He didn’t need a relationship and the drama that came with it. And he certainly didn’t need to feel obligated to show tenderness and emotion. That wasn’t in his nature.

He’d had a relationship before, when he was still in Erudite. He was young, and never felt quite like himself with a girl always clinging to his arm. Relationships weren’t worth the trouble. Sure, many girls would be happy to be attached to him, and he knew it. He was a young, attractive Dauntless leader, and his sour attitude seemed to make Dauntless girls swoon. Despite hard and tough exteriors, Eric found most Dauntless girls to be masochistic, and he was happy to feed their hunger for such. But when morning came, they could beat it. 

“So you gonna jump on that or what?” Isaac’s pained gaze was back on Eric.

“I don’t sleep with initiates,” Eric growled.

Isaac laughed, and then let out a surprised yelp as Tori smacked him in the back of the head with a warning to lay still.

——

Treya let the warm water flow over her body. The Dauntless compound was always so cold and Treya was constantly trying to warm herself with training and late night showers.

She didn’t need peering eyes from the smug Erudite transfers. She was always careful to shower when everyone was asleep. It was easier to lose some sleep than to answer all the questions that came with the amount of scars on her body.

The warm water traced its way over her skin, and through her hair. As factionless, she spent most of her time outside, in the warmth of the sun. At night, the factionless would huddle together to stay warm in the chilly air. She usually slept curled up next to Edgar, her longtime and closest friend. 

The warm water reminded her of him. There was a time when he had taken her to the pond on the city’s edge. The grass around it had grown tall enough to provide cover, and the pond was usually left secluded, save a few wild birds. It was the first time he had shown her the pond, and she had dipped her hand in, surprised to find it so warm in the sunlight. She had stripped herself down to her underwear, and slowly walked into the water. Though small enough to be considered a pond, it was chest deep, and Treya lowered herself under its surface, the warmth surrounding her on all sides. She had floated there in its center, for a long time, her ears under the surface, drowning out the world around her. Edgar had stayed at the edge, sitting in the grass, watching her silently. It was the first time she had permitted him to see her body. He never asked. Perhaps it was because he already knew. He already knew what had happened to her, and so her scars did not surprise him. He did not pity her, or judge her, and the only reason he watched was to inform her of nearby strangers.

Warm water reminded her of Edgar.

A sleepy cough snapped her from her memory, and Treya turned off the water, simultaneously grabbing her towel and wrapped it around her in a futile attempt to withhold the warmth the water had given her.

She turned to find her clothes, but found Michael instead, watching her with a wide, menacing smile. Michael was nothing but trouble.

“Well aren’t you just stitched together,” Michael gave her a look over, his eyes lingering on her body a bit longer than she liked.

She gave him a dark glare.

“Like some kind of lab experiment gone wrong,” Michael snickered. “Here I was wondering if you ever showered at all. Factionless are pretty disgusting, so I wouldn’t be too surprised if you didn’t shower.” 

Treya sidestepped him, but he caught her arm to stop her.

“Tell me something, stitch, how many faction members did you scar during the uprising? How many did you kill?” His voice was low, and he wasn’t looking for an answer, he just wanted to let Treya know his disgust for her.

Treya wrenched her arm away from him, “I’m about to add another to the count,” she snarled. 

He smirked, before handing her the shirt she had set in the corner, “get dressed stitch, no one wants to see that mess.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teamwork
> 
> Will the other initiates accept Treya as part of the team? Do they even know how to act as a team? Can they set their differences aside long enough to complete the tasks at hand?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few quick notes about this piece:  
> \- This is a multi chapter work.  
> \- This mostly follows the timeline and events from the books, but some characters and appearances are used from the movies.  
> \- This takes place about 2 years after Allegiant.  
> \- Eric, Tris, Tori, Max, and Jeanine are alive.  
> \- This piece includes a main original character.  
> \-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Treya was already in the training room, taking out her anger on a punching bag, when Eric walked in.

“Don’t you ever sleep?”

She didn’t respond, hitting the punching bag again, with a hard, deliberate punch.

Eric’s brow furrowed. He noticed her punches were a bit less controlled than normal. It was a slight change, one that wouldn’t be noticed if a person hadn’t studied her as much as he did. It was the slight dart of her eyes, almost a blink, when she landed each punch, that gave it away. Something was bothering her, but she didn’t seem like she wanted to discuss it.

He made his way over to her anyway, grabbing her left wrist firmly.

She half heartedly tried to pull away from his grasp, not really caring, but more out of the habit of shying away from such touches. 

Eric turned her to him, taking her other wrist into his freehand, and examining her knuckles. They were bruised and cracked, and red with irritation. She had been going at that bag for a while. His eyes glanced up at her’s, but her eyes darted away from him. He turned her hands in his, “You need to wrap your hands when you’re on the bag. You can take them off when you’re in the ring.”

She wrenched her hands away more forcefully this time, “I don’t need special treatment.”

“You’re pulling two-a-day training when everyone else is pulling one. I’d say you’re hardly getting special treatment.”

“Are we done here?”

Eric narrowed his eyes, quiet a moment before stating in a low voice, “I don’t know what’s gotten to you, but knock it off. Focus on the bag, and quit flailing. Deliberate punches.”

Treya turned back to the bag, and Eric put a hand out, between her and the bag, to stop her, “after you wrap your hands.”

The training room door clicked open, and Michael, Nick and Stephen filtered in, looking up in surprise at Eric. 

Eric’s eyes darkened as he glared at the three, “squeezing in extra practice time, initiates?”

Treya glanced at them as well, to find Michael looking over her figure with a smirk. She turned back to the bag, the hair on the back of her neck standing on edge.

“Yeah, figured if Stitch was getting extra practice, we should too,” Michael stated, amused.

Eric’s brow furrowed at the nickname, and he turned to Treya, his hand still in front of her. Behind him, the three boys snickered. Eric saw Treya physically tense at their snickering, and his eyes moved down her form before back up to her angry expression. The realization of where the nickname stemmed from finally hit him, and he straightened, his eyes hardening, “why don’t you jump on the weights,” his voice echoed over to the three, then he added just loud enough for Treya to hear, “all of us.”

Treya followed Eric to the weight training corner. 

Michael was quick to slide weights on a bar, and position himself underneath. Nick stepped behind him, ready to spot him while Stephen sat on a bench across from them, with two large dumbells, curling them.

Eric led Treya over to the bench press. When she tried to sit on the bench, he stopped her, and motioned her to move. He slid on the large weighted discs, and Treya wondered if he was trying to kill her. There was no way she could press three hundred pounds. It would crush her.

But it was Eric who sat on the bench and laid back.

Treya took the spot of spotter, positioning herself at his head. When he adjusted his grip on the bar, Treya bent her knees, and gently put her hands under the bar. It was silly to think she could actually spot for him. If something were to go wrong, she would be of very little help to him, as the weights were much heavier than she could ever manage. But she humored him, watching him closely as he lifted the bar, and lowered it to his chest. 

He repeated the process a few times, and the three boys were soon watching, in awe about the weight he could manage. They were beginners, and could only average about half the weight Eric could move. 

Eric’s muscles tensed, and the veins in his arms bulged as he continued. When he finally lowered the barbell back onto its stand, he sat up with a smirk, his sinister gaze on the three boys. “Nothing like a good warm up lift.”

The boys turned away, mumbling amongst themselves.

Eric turned to Treya and nodded towards the chin up bar. 

Silently she made her way to the bar. It was above her head, and she usually had to jump to reach it, but Eric stepped behind her, and placed his hands firmly on her hips. 

“One, two, three,” he murmured in her ear, and she jumped on three. He lifted her, and she quickly grabbed the bar. His grip on her hips stayed firm a moment longer as she adjusted her grip on the bar, and pulled herself up. “Lock your feet.”

She crossed her ankles, and continued to pull herself up.

Eric moved in front of her, watching her closely. When she finished her rep, he grabbed her by the hips again, and helped her back to the floor. “Your grip is lax, hard to hold on with busted knuckles?”

She nodded, her arms burning from the chin ups. The three boys, who had moved further away, and were laughing at one another, had challenged each other to a push-up contest, and their laughter caught Treya’s attention. Her eyes darted in their direction and her body tensed.

Eric glanced at the boys and then back to Treya. He slid in front of her, breaking her stare, “why don’t you go run it off.” It was an order, not a suggestion, and Treya turned and jogged her way to the perimeter of the training room, and then around the outside.

Eric watched her take off, and when he was convinced her attention was not on the boys, she made his way over to them. He stood over Michael, who seemed to be doing push-ups with more ease than the other two. His eyes narrowed as Michael laughed at Nick, who had given up trying to keep up with the other two. Eric placed his foot in the middle of Michael’s back, between his shoulder blades, and pushed. 

Michael let out a groan, struggling to push himself from the floor with Eric’s foot pushing him back down.

Stephen had stopped as well, and he and Nick watched silently as Michael struggled underneath Eric. They were nervous for their friend, but knew better than to intervene.

“Well push,” Eric snarled, and Michael let out another groan. “If you find your training is too easy for you, then maybe it’s time to step it up a notch,” Eric growled. “Quit taking the easy way out and step up. You’re never going to get better if you don’t push yourself. Now push,” he snarled down at Michael like a hungry wolf over a frightened rabbit.

Michael let out another frustrated groan, and Eric rolled his eyes as the boy flopped to the ground, giving in.

Eric leaned over Michael, who was huffing in exhaustion, “Dauntless never give up,” he growled at the three, and then he lowered his voice toward Michael “and watch yourself. We work as a team here, and you’re a team with your fellow initiates.” Eric straightened himself and turned away from the three. He turned his attention back to Treya, who was making another lap around the room, her eyes on him.

——

The boys had left Treya alone the rest of the day.

Eric cut training short, since it was visiting day, and initiates quickly filed out of the training room to shower and find their visiting families. 

Treya made her way out of the room behind the others, mauling over what to do with her evening. She knew she’d end up back in the training room, but she figured she would wander the shops in the pit for a bit.

She hadn’t ventured into them since she was ordered to buy a bra, and she wondered what other shops there were.

Up the narrow stairs on the edge of the pit, Treya wandered into a small shop with shelves of prepackaged food. Treya had never seen foods like these. The plastic packaging said things like ‘energy bar’ and ‘protein packed.’ There were canned beverages in dark metal with shaky and distorted scripted names. There were packages of dried meats, and sweets; lots of sweets. Dauntless all seemed to have a sweet tooth. It was one thing Treya hadn’t grown accustom to.

She wandered the shop, not really looking for anything in particular. After having wandered every isle, she made her way out and towards another shop. This one was a clothing shop; filled with different shades of black fabrics, and metal grommets and studs, and leather boots of all styles.

There was a petite, blue haired girl, with metal piercings throughout her face, behind a counter, tapping away on a small computer tablet, and had barely noticed Treya at all.

“Gonna replace those kicks?” The girl nodded towards Treya’s feet, not looking up from her tablet, “those boots have seen better days.”

Treya looked down at her boots. They were tattered and almost worn through in spots, “I’m sure I don’t have enough credits for those.”

The girl huffed, “just use your boyfriend’s.”

“Excuse me?” Treya turned to the girl, giving her a dark questioning gaze. 

“You’re Eric Coulter’s girlfriend,” the girl returned Treya’s gaze, her voice and eyes both annoyed. When Treya didn’t respond, the girl sighed and put down the tablet. She made her way around the counter and to Treya’s side. “If you’re that worried, go with these,” she picked up a pair of plain black boots and handed them to Treya. “Cheap but durable.”

Treya took the boots and looked them over, “how much?”

“20 credits,” the girl made her way back to the counter. 

Treya nodded and followed the girl, “alright.”

“Last name?” 

“Price.”

The girl typed on her tablet, then turned it for Treya to sign her name on the screen with her finger.

Treya signed, then picked up her shoes. “Why did you call me Eric’s girlfriend?”

The girl turned her tablet back around, “aren’t you?” She didn’t receive a response, so she added “Gregory told James, who told Amber, who told me, that he was dating the factionless initiate.”

Treya blinked at the long explanation, then made her way towards the shop door, “we’re not together,” then she left the girl in the shop without a chance to respond.

Back down the steps, Treya made her way across the pit floor, ignoring the initiates and their families who were hugging and laughing together. She was almost to the other side of the large cavernous room when she heard him.

“T!”

She froze, her body tensed and the hair on the back of her neck stood on edge. By the time she turned around to face him, he was practically right behind her. Her eyes darkened.

Her half brother, Jordan, smiled down at her. He was tall and slim, with shaggy black hair, and a half head taller than her. Although he was under weight, as all factionless, he was solid muscle. His eyes hungrily looked up and down Treya’s form. “You’ve grown.”

Her grip on her new boots tightened, and her dark glare only darkened, as a figure shifted behind him.

“Treya doll.”

Treya’s body shifted to a fighting stance, her right foot back, and hands low, but ready to defend herself. Her throat tightened, hearing her father’s voice, “What are you doing here?”

“It’s visiting day,” Jordan stated playfully.

“Figured we’d visit our favorite doll,” Thane’s voice was low, his smile was dark, murderous.

Despite all her training, both as Evelyn’s fighter, and as a Dauntless initiate, this man still sparked the unnerve that radiated through Treya’s tense form. She hadn’t seen either of them since she was twelve; since they made games out of abusing her in every possible way. A childhood she wished she could forget.

Thane’s piercing blue eyes never left Treya’s, but she could feel Jordan’s brown ones continue to roam her body. 

Thane’s smile was unnerving; the same hungry smile, bordered by his graying goatee, that she remembered as a child. His bald head tilted slightly in her direction as he took a step toward her.

Instinctively, her weight shifted to her back foot, and Thane paused to look her over.

“You think you could fight me?” Thane sneered. He was taller than her, and his dangerous smiling down on her made her feel two feet tall. Thane growled down at her, “why don’t you come home now, doll. We miss our play thing.”

“Thane Price,” Eric’s voice boomed and Thane, Jordan and Treya turned toward him as he made his way to them in long, powerful strides.

Treya seized the moment to take another step away from Thane, and Eric smoothly stepped between them.

“Surprised to find you down here in Dauntless,” Eric growled, “seeing as you’re a traitor and all.” Eric crossed his arms over his chest, his large form creating a barrier between Treya and her unwanted visitors.

“It’s visiting day,” Jordan hissed from behind his father.

Eric’s eyes shot a warning glare at Jordan, “surprised you even had the guts to show your face around here, coward.”

Thane glanced back at his son, then around Eric at Treya, “we were just discussing Treya’s return home, once she fails out of Dauntless.”

Treya shifted to the side, giving Thane a dark glare, but still behind Eric.

“You’re daughter,” Eric’s voice raised, getting Thane’s attention again, “is doing very well here at Dauntless. She’s a talented fighter, and sitting at the top of her class.”

Jordan’s eyebrows rose in surprise, but Thane’s eyes narrowed in anger. “She’s a factionless whore and nothing else,” Thane snarled, reaching out to snatch at Treya.

Treya was quick to dart back, and Eric was just as quick to put his arm between the two, stopping Thane.

“I suggest you take your little tag along, and leave,” Eric matched Thane’s snarl. “Or I’ll have to inform Max of your presence. I believe he put a bounty on your head if you were to ever return.”

Thane’s eyes narrowed and the two stood nose to nose, neither backing down.

Jordan snuck around his father, and made a grab for Treya. She side stepped him and planted her fist into his nose. He yelped in a mix of surprise and pain as blood started to trickle down from his nostril.

The two men broke their stand off, and Thane growled in fury “you little whore!” He grabbed for Treya again, but Eric slid between them and shoved Thane backwards.

By now, the other initiates and their families were watching and whispering. A few Dauntless members whispered Thane’s name as they recognized him. 

Thane glanced around, unnerved by his name being whispered in echoes through the cavern. 

Eric slid his arm behind Treya, and his hand found the small of her back. “Come on,” he mumbled to her, guiding her towards the edge of the pit.

Thane growled, seeing the two leave, “so that’s how you stay on top. You just fuck your way there! Once a whore always a whore!” His voice was a roar, and echoed through the pit. 

Eric stopped and Treya could feel him tense. She glanced up at him to see his upper lip quiver as he held back a snarl. He turned, and in large strides, was back to Thane, toe to toe.

“If you want a fight, why don’t you step up to a real opponent, and stop beating around little girls. But that’s your thing, isn’t it? Little girls.” Eric’s voice was a low growl, but quiet enough that no one but Thane could hear.

Thane matched his tone, a poisonous smirk crossing his face, “you give her an extra two points every time she licks up your shaft? Another when you bend her over? I’m sure you enjoyed that tight wet hole. Hard not to when she whimpers and begs you to stop.”

With lightning speed, Eric landed a hard punch to Thane’s cheek, knocking him to the floor. Eric’s form followed him down, pinning the man and landing punch after punch to his head and ribs. 

Jordan jumped onto Eric, blood dried on his face, and wrapped his arm around Eric’s throat. Eric thrashed, trying to shake off Jordan and continue his assault on Thane.

Treya was quick, and ripped her half brother from Eric, before giving him another punch to the face. Jordan fell backwards, and Treya turned her attention to Eric.

“Eric stop! Get off him!”

Eric was seeing red, and Treya had to push herself between Eric and her father, “Eric look at me!” She caught Eric’s eyes, and his face changed from the murderous look he had, to a softer one as Treya pulled him up. “Leave him.”

Thane was panting, barely conscious from the assault. Jordan was hovered over him, trying to pull the man up. “Come on da, we have to get out of here,” he hissed quietly.

Treya continued to push Eric away, but his eyes were on the two men. He glanced up, seeing Max watching from a bridge above the pit, not making any effort to stop the fight.

“Eric,” Treya mumbled, annoyed.

Eric glanced down at her, then pulled her to his side with one arm, and pointing at a group of Dauntless who were watching from the corner, “get these two traitors to Max,” he growled before turning with Treya and exiting the pit.

There were days Treya questioned whether Eric was more Erudite than Dauntless. Today wasn’t one of those days. Today he was all Dauntless.

——

If either Treya or Eric were embarrassed by the events earlier that day, neither of them showed it.

Treya retreated back to the training room, where she sat on the floor and folded the toes of her new boots, back and forth, attempting to break them in before going back to her training.

Eric on the other hand, had climbed his way to Max’s office, to follow up on Thane and Jordan’s appearances.

“They’ve been escorted out of Dauntless,” Max mumbled without looking up as Eric quietly shut the office door behind him.

Eric’s brow furrowed, “what happened to that bounty on Thane’s head?”

Max sighed, but continued with the paperwork on his desk, “Dauntless leaders decided he was just to be banished.”

“That was twenty years ago, and you’re the only leader left from that reign.”

Max finally looked up, giving Eric a very serious look, “I’d like nothing more than to see the life drain from that man’s face, but as a Dauntless leader, my job is to uphold the law, in and outside of this faction. What kind of standard would I be setting if I killed Thane, after his fate has already been decided?”

Eric’s jaw clenched. A lot had changed since the uprising, including Max’s attitude. Max was more concerned with pulling Dauntless together, and mending where the uprising had ripped it. There were no cuts to be made this year, as so many Dauntless died during the uprising, and their numbers plummeted. He was returning to the original Dauntless manifesto and standards, no longer making decisions without thinking them through. Although his alliance with Jeanine was still intact, he also made efforts to align with Jack Kang, the Candor leader. Amnity and Abnegation weren’t currently on his radar for alliance, as those two factions were weaker, and more forgiving. 

Eric crossed his arms over his chest, “has justice been served for Ethan?”

Max’s eyes darkened, “Ethan was laid to rest long ago, and the Dauntless leaders brought Thane to justice with his banishment.”

“No,” Eric growled, “Dauntless leaders were afraid of Thane because he had such a following. I’ve read the reports.”

Max stood, his muscular form was relaxed, but firm, matching his tone, “reading reports does not mean you know what happened. It means you know what was reported.” Max was always guarded when talking about his son, Ethan, and the circumstances of his death.

Eric’s jaw relaxed as Max reminded him of his place. When Max was satisfied that Eric had submitted, he sat back down at his desk.

“You were quick to defend your initiate.”

Eric shifted, glancing away from Max, and out the glass window that overlooked the pit.

“That was good. We want to instill a sense of teamwork among Dauntless, you were certainly modeling that teamwork. I know that was hard for you.” Max knew that Eric struggled treating his fellow Dauntless as equals. 

“It’s different with her.”

Max sat back in his seat, giving Eric a hard look over, waiting for him to go on.

“She’s strong like Dauntless, but humble. She’s not like the others,” Eric’s eyes shot to the floor.

“I’ve seen your reports. She’s what we’re looking for here at Dauntless.”

Eric’s eyes shifted back to Max, “you think she fits in here?”

Max nodded slowly, “I think she may be fit for leadership. She’s not a meathead soldier.”

“I don’t think that’s what Jeanine had in mind for conforming factionless.”

Max’s eyes narrowed, “I’m not concerned about Jeanine’s opinion of who I choose to run my faction.”

Eric cocked his head, “then why play out her theory on factionless at all?”

“Her ideas are right. If we conform factionless, we run less of a risk of riots. Kang is in agreement with her, Johanna knows better than to argue, and Abnegation is still rebuilding.”

Eric nodded, thinking. Since the uprising, the government had been run by the faction leaders. Abnegation currently had no leaders, as they were all killed by the Dauntless attacks two years prior. At first, the leaders struggled to share common ground, which allowed the factionless to continue rioting. Eventually, with Jeanine’s coaxing, they all seemed to agree that the factionless were the problem. 

“This builds our bonds with the other factions, and reestablishes our reputation as the protectors of this city,” Max continued. 

Eric was willing to listen to the lecture. Although he was a leader, Max was still his superior, and Eric could still learn from him. He ran his fingers through his hair as he listened.

Max paused his lecture, giving Eric a questioning look. “Still bothering you?”

Eric’s hand shot down from his hair when he realized what he was doing. “Has it’s moments,” he mumbled, crossing his arms again. The throbbing pain was constant, but every once in a while the pain heightened, and Eric found himself rubbing the scar along the line of his mohawk. Being shot, dragged to the Erudite headquarters, and revived just in time to have the bullet removed from his skull, had made Eric think more deeply about life; his own life. Life was fragile, and the human body was weak. After being shot, Eric had been determined to strengthen himself both physically and mentally. Part of that strengthening was to be open to learn, and learning in all situations. Eric hated to admit that he did not know everything. It was too humbling, but there was strength in it as well.

He often caught himself running his fingers over the bump of the scar that was carved into his head. Especially when contemplating life’s fragility.

“Have you talked to Anne?”

Eric was quiet. Despite the pain in his head, he’d rather tough it out than find himself in the infirmary, admitting that he wasn’t made of steel. Especially to Anne, the fearless, no nonsense Dauntless doctor. Instead, he shot Max an annoyed look, and Max only shrugged in response.

“Have you finished your report this week?”

“I was going to do that tonight,” Eric mumbled.

Max nodded, looking back down to his paperwork, “good.” When he didn’t respond further, Max glanced up at Eric, “anything else?”

Eric straightened before turning to head out of Max’s office.

“Eric,” Max stopped him, returning his gaze back to his paperwork as Eric turned to look at him, “don’t question my decision again.”

Eric pause a moment, then turned and quietly left the office.

——

_**Week 3**_

_Subject continues to show improvement in fighting skills. When asked to spar a skilled Dauntless member, the subject obliged and proceeded to display knowledge of both basic and advanced fighting techniques. Subject displays leader and teaching skills. Subject’s fitness training proceeds to improve as well._

_Subject displays a sense of protectiveness and loyalty over weaker initiates. Subject engaged in attack on a fellow initiate who bullied a weaker initiate. However, subject does not engage in attack if bullying is targeted to her._

_Subject’s dietary habits have improved slightly. Subject dislikes mess hall food, but consume foods that are not deemed “heavy and rich.” Subject prefers fruit, vegetables, and grains._

_Subject had a physical exam the prior Monday. Results are outlined below:_  
rental damage in left eye  
cartilage damage in left shoulder  
cartilage damage in right hip  
pelvic trauma 

_These injuries are the result of trauma sustained during early childhood, aggravated by lack of proper medical care. Subject displays high pain tolerance. Subject was cleared to continue training, but will be watched closely._

_Subject does not engage in socializing with other initiates or Dauntless members. Subject was visited by father and brother, but subject declined to socialize._

_Subject is still ranked #1 with a 97 point lead._

_Any updates will be included in next report._

_Respectfully,_  
_Eric Coulter  
_ _Dauntless Leader_

——

Eric didn’t return to training after lunch the following day, and Treya found herself slightly disappointed. She enjoyed Eric’s advanced training, as it always pushed her to learn more and be better. Four certainly tried to push her, but it wasn’t the same.

“Treya, I’d like you to work with Jessica today.” Four had pulled her aside, away from the others.

“I didn’t think we were partnering today.”

Four smirked sweetly, “we’re not. But I think she would benefit from working with you.”

“I’m not her trainer.”

Four’s smile doesn’t waver, “no, you’re her teammate.”

Treya sighed. He was right, and a team was only as strong as their weakest member. She made her way over to Jessica, who was attempting to punch a bag in the corner.

Four watched Treya and Jessica, through the session. Jessica really seemed receptive to Treya, and Treya fell into the role as trainer very easily. The two had gone from the bag to hand pads, and Treya was demonstrating how to throw body weight into attacks.

With Treya’s help, Jessica had vastly improved in one session, and Four felt much more confident that all his initiates were on track in their training. 

He dismissed them for dinner, and they all scurried out.

Treya was content to forgo a heavy Dauntless dinner, and so she steered away from the mess hall. She hadn’t planned on going to Eric’s apartment, but that’s where she ended up. She stood outside his door, unsure of what she would even say if he answered. Her knuckles found the door on their own.

Nothing.

She was just about to give up, shaking her head at her stupid idea, when the door clicked open. Treya looked up in surprise, and then in more surprise at the state of Eric.

He was shirtless, his chest was tight with muscles, as was his stomach, both coated with a fine layer of hair that trailed down below the band of the black sweatpants that hung on his hips. His hair, tousled and out of place, opposite the usual perfectly gelled mohawk he usually sported. His skin was shiny with sweat, and he was barefoot.

His brow furrowed the the sight of her, “what’s up?”

Treya was just about to stutter a response when a female voice from inside the apartment called out “who is it Eric?”

Treya’s mouth snapped shut, and she gave him an awkward smile before awkwardly turning to walk away. 

“Treya,” Eric’s voice was firm, and she paused, her back still turned, “wait here.” He shut the door and Treya was left in the hall, wondering if she should really wait or not.

The door clicked open again, and a girl with tousled hair and smeared makeup, wearing an oversized shirt, and carrying a bundle of clothes and shoes, marched out angrily, giving Treya a shove with her shoulder as she passed.

“Treya,” Eric’s voice was softer this time, and she turned to see him standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame. He had put on a black T-shirt, but was still barefoot.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have,” she stammered before Eric interrupted her.

“Hungry?”

Treya’s brow furrowed. She had obviously interrupted a very intimate situation, and here he was, acting like it was nothing and more concerned about her stomach than the awkwardness of it all.

He nodded his head into the apartment and moved out of the way for her to step inside.

She did, awkwardly sidestepping around him. The door to his bedroom was open, the lights off inside, but she could still see his bed and the tangle of blankets on top. Eric had followed her inside, and made his way to the kitchen, instantly setting to work at the stove. 

She watched him silently for a while, before swallowing hard and mumbling, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come here uninvited.”

Eric didn’t turn away from the stove, his back to her, “it’s fine.”

“No,” Treya found a bit more strength in her words, “it’s not. You didn’t invite me, and I obviously interrupted you.” She thought about what was going on, but Eric just huffed a slight laugh.

“It was time for her to go anyway.”

It didn’t make Treya any more comfortable.

He turned around, and set a plate in front of Treya. Chicken and broccoli. He then slid a fork across the counter at her, before setting a glass of water down.

She poked at the food awkwardly with her fork, while he stood across from her, eating his own. She cleared her throat, “Four had me work with Jessica today.”

Eric’s brow furrowed, “I’m sure that fight wasn’t hard.”

Treya shook her head, “no, he had me train her.”

“That’s what Four should be doing, not you.” He seemed annoyed, but not with her, “you should be focused on your own training.”

“I am focused,” she looked up at him with a raised eyebrow. “Working with Jessica was interesting. It made me stop and think about what I do in fights, my movements, my thinking.” She shrugged, “and Jessica learned a lot too. She’s fighting better.”

Eric’s brow stayed furrowed as he chewed a bite of chicken, his eyes on Treya, “if Four can’t do his job as trainer, he shouldn’t be having you do it. You’re an initiate, you’re not a certified trainer.” He swallowed, “maybe Four’s training certification needs re-evaluated. I’ll mention it to Max.”

Treya pushed her plate away, “why are you so hard on Four?”

“Because he’s an idiot,” Eric nudged her plate back to her, not satisfied with how much she hadn’t eaten.

“He’s actually really smart, and you know it.”

Eric let out a tsk, setting his plate in the sink, “he hasn’t let go of Abnegation. He’s still just a stiff.”

“Have you let go of Erudite?” Treya snapped in response, not angry but more as a devil’s advocate. “Cause that’s an awful lot of books for a Dauntless.”

Eric shot her a glare.

“He’s no more Abnegation than you are Erudite,” when he continued to glare, she added “come on, why do you really hate him?”

Eric leaned back against the counter behind him, his arms crossed over his chest as he glared at Treya, trying to analyze her. “We never saw eye to eye. We both have very different views of Dauntless, and very different wants for it.”

Treya nodded, waiting for him to go on.

He turned away from her, to clean off the stove, mumbling “he shot me.”

“He shot you,” her statement almost came across as a question as her eyebrows raised in surprise. “That’s not what you do to someone who disagrees with you.” There was more he wasn’t telling her, and she knew it.

He sighed, his body tense and his back still to her, “our vision for Dauntless was so vastly different, that our actions resulted in us trying to kill each other.”

Treya sat back, her arms crossed her chest as she thought about what he said and waited for him to go on.

“He and his girlfriend are divergent. We were on opposing teams.”

It made more sense, Eric hunted divergents, which means he had hunted them. Four probably shot him out of self defense, but Eric seemed to not want to discuss it anymore, so she didn’t try to confirm.

“I hope I didn’t upset your girlfriend.” She bowed her head, looking down to her half eaten plate.

Eric turned around, his eyes hard and his brow furrowed, “she’s not my girlfriend.”

Treya shook her head slightly “friend, then.”

“I don’t date,” his voice was cold and hard, and Treya wondered why he seemed so defensive.

Her eyes met his, “neither do I.”

——

“Alright listen up,” Eric’s voice echoed through the training room, “tonight at nine sharp, you are to be on the train, dressed in your training fatigues.”

“What’s going on?” Oliver asked, a wide grin across his face.

“Field trip,” Eric snapped, “and I’ll drop ten points from each person who’s late.” He almost growled, causing the smile on Oliver’s face to fade slightly.

He dismissed them for dinner, and they all hurried out. Eric snagged Treya’s arm as she passed him. “You want dinner?”

She didn’t respond, her eyes darting from his hand, clasped firmly around her upper arm, to his face.

“Bring your fatigues, you can get ready at my place.” He let go of her before walking away.

Her brow furrowed, unsure of why he seemed so adamant that she get ready at his apartment. She shook her head. Eric’s dinners were always preferable to the ones from the mess hall, and if getting ready there meant she didn’t have to suffer through a heavy meal, so be it. She grabbed her water bottle, and headed out of the training room, towards the barracks.

“How come we never see you at dinner?” Alex, the feisty Candor girl, with choppy black hair, pulled back into a ponytail, asked as Treya made her way to her bunk.

Treya shrugged, “don’t care much for Dauntless food,” she mumbled.

“Well you might as well get used to it. There’s no doubt you’ll make it into Dauntless,” Benny, the jokester of the initiate group, and always blunt with his remarks, flopped down on Treya’s bed, as both he and Alex watched her. “Besides, you gotta eat.”

Treya eyed him, “I eat.” She knelt down and slid her trunk out from under the bed. Each initiate had a trunk they could keep their belongings in. After initiation, they would be assigned apartments, and could keep more belongings than a trunk full. Most initiates had filled their trunks with clothes and snacks and souvenir type goods, but Treya’s just held her Dauntless issued clothes and her old factionless ones. She pulled out her fatigues, and shut her trunk.

“Where do you go for dinner then?” Benny asked suspiciously.

“Out,” was all Treya snapped, but when he and Alex seemed to not be satisfied, she added “away from people.”

“Once an outcast, always an outcast,” Michael announced from across the room, making his friends snicker.

Treya ignored them, shoving her trunk back under her bed.

Michael made his way over to her, “you’re never going to fit in here. No one wants you here anyway, so why don’t you go back to your little factionless friends?” 

The smirk across his face annoyed Treya, but she continued about her business, folding her fatigues neatly.

Michael reached out and shoved Treya’s shoulder, “What are you deaf now? I’m talking to you, Stitch!”

Treya turned, instantly putting herself nose to nose with him, her eyes dark and warning, “my score is proof enough that I fit in here, or did you forget who’s ranked first?”

His eyes narrowed, “no one wants you here. You’re everyone’s enemy. You’re the one everyone wants to take out. The factionless girl who thinks she’s so much better than everyone else, but you’re just some Frankenstein monster who should watch her back,” he growled.

“Leave her alone,” Alex groaned.

Michael turned to Alex, the smirk across his face growing, “you lost your brother in the riots, didn’t you?” When Alex’s face dropped, he continued, “she’s Evelyn’s pet, you honestly think she’s innocent in all this?”

All eyes turned to Treya, and her own eyes met each and every one, daring any of them to try her. Her eyes finally landed back on Michael, “you want the top spot? Come and get it,” She snarled.

No one moved.

“Didn’t think so,” she growled, picking up her fatigues and walking off.

——

Treya had just clicked the door behind her when Eric suggested, “you can take a shower if you want.”

She froze, watching him as he hovered over a sizzling skillet on the stove. 

He glanced over his shoulder at her, then took a double take, noticing her wide eyed confusion, “what?” When she didn’t respond, he added, “figured you’d want to before war games.”

She composed herself quickly, “war games?”

He nodded, shaking the skillet a bit, “final test of the first stage of training.”

She didn’t respond, making him glance back at her.

“Door straight ahead, bathroom’s on the left,” when she didn’t budge, a smirk crossed his face, “if you need help, you’ll have to wait until after dinner.”

Her cheeks flushed, and she quickly walked to the far door, trying to hide him from seeing her embarrassment.

His bedroom was monochromatic in greys and whites. There was a dark grey rug on the white tile floor, and a large bed with muted grey blankets and pillows. A small black nightstand stood on either side of the bed, and a matching back dresser sat on the wall to her right. To her left was the open bathroom door, and an open doorframe next to it that led to a walk-in closet.

Everything was neat and tidy and in its place. 

She stepped into the bathroom, flipping the light switch on the wall. The bright white lights flashed on, lighting up the white bathroom. The only offset to the brightness was the black vanity with steel knobs, and the black tiled shower in the corner. 

She clicked the bathroom door shut behind her, and opened the glass shower door. She fiddled with the shower knob a moment, finding the right temperature, and then shimmied out of her clothes, grateful for the privacy behind a closed door.

Treya stepped into the hot water, her body relaxing as the water pounded her shoulders. She dipped her head back, letting the water wash through her short hair. Eric’s shampoo smelled clean. It wasn’t overly scented like most men’s shampoo, and Treya figured it could be much worse, given she had no other shampoo option. She worked it into her scalp, letting the water fall onto her chest as she lathered her hair. 

The hot water fogged up the glass shower door, and Treya found herself content to just stand under the water, eyes closed. She hadn’t heard the knock on the bathroom door, but when she opened her eyes again, there was a hazy form moving on the other side of the foggy glass. She gasped in surprise, turning her body away to hide, “what do you want?” Her voice was a lot more angry that she’d meant. 

The form crouched down at the sink for a moment before standing back up again. “I didn’t think you knew where the towels were, and you didn’t answer when I knocked.” Eric’s voice was smooth and even, and if he had noticed her anger, he hadn’t reacted.

Treya turned off the water, and the glass door cracked open slightly as Eric’s hand slipped in with a towel. She took it awkwardly, noticing how he turned his head away to give her some privacy. Quickly, she wrapped herself in the towel, and opened the glass door further.

Eric turned to her, giving her a quick look over, “food’s ready.”

She nodded, her hair dripping water down to the floor. 

Eric gave her another quick look over before leaving her alone to get dressed.

She was quick to towel herself off and slip into her fatigues. She rubbed the towel over her hair before running her fingers through it to tame it down. When she emerged from Eric’s bedroom, he was sitting on the couch, plate in hand.

He looked up at her and scooted over on the couch. He set his plate down on the coffee table in front of him, next to a second plate.

Treya sat next to him, looking at the plate before her. A fillet of pink fish sat on a bed of dark green lettuce. A hard boiled egg sat between the fish and a scoop of small red and brown balls. She recognized the red ones as little tomatoes, but the brown ones were foreign to her. A sliced green avocado was neatly fanned out opposite the egg. 

At her hesitation, Eric mumbled “chickpeas” before picking up his plate again, and stabbing at the fish.

They ate in silence. The chickpeas reminded Treya of the beans she used to share with Edgar, but they weren’t quite the same. They tasted more like a nut, but seemed just as filling. Eric’s meals were good, impressive even, but sometimes Treya missed the simplicity of a can of beans, shared around a fire and passed among friends.

“So what do war games entail?” Treya asked through her last bite of food, as she set the plate back down on the table. 

Eric smirked and shook his head, “can’t let you get a leg up on the competition.”

“I don’t need a leg up.”

“You sure don’t,” Eric huffed in amusement. “You’ll find out when we get on the train.” He stood, picking up both plates and walking them to the kitchen.

Treya took a moment to adjust her boots before standing and following him to the kitchen. 

He quickly cleaned the plates and set them aside to dry. When he turned around, he found her watching him. With a smirk, he tugged his shirt up over his head and off his body. 

Treya forced herself to keep her eyes on his, but his teasing smirk only dared her to glance down. She didn’t need to look to know he had rock solid abs, and a toned chest. She had felt his muscular form every time his body pressed against her when they sparred. Although she wanted to, and his smirk urged her, she knew if she looks, she wouldn’t be able to hide the red in her cheeks. 

He watched her a moment, his smirk never fading. “Give me a moment to change,” he flashed her a quick smile before making his way to the bedroom.

It wasn’t long before he re-emerged, dressed in fatigues that matched Treya’s. He quickly made his way to the door, ushering Treya out into the hallway, then led her through Dauntless and out to the train tracks. 

Other initiates, both transfers and faction born, appeared in groups, and it wasn’t long before they could feel the ground vibrate as the train neared. The group was quick to start running as the train rushed past them, everyone taking their turn to jump aboard. Treya was faster than Eric, but he managed to pull himself into the boxcar right after her.

When it seemed that all the initiates had made it aboard, Four shouldered his way through to the center of the car, where Eric and Treya stood. “The game is simple,” he started, his loud voice hushing the chatty initiates, “just like capture the flag.” He pulled two large neon yellow cloths from a duffle bag he had tossed to the floor. 

Eric reached down to the bag, pulling out a long thin red and black gun. It was smaller than what Dauntless usually used. He held it up for the initiates to see, “weapon of choice.”

There were a couple snickers, as the gun was not intimidating at all. 

“Is that supposed to scare us?” Michael was quick to comment.

Eric rolled his eyes, and aimed the gun at Michael’s head. “You want to test how powerful it is?”

Michael stilled, the barrel only inches away from his forehead.

It was Eric’s turn to smirk, “neurostim dart. Not deadly, unfortunately, but it’ll make you wish you were. It triggers the pain of a real gunshot. Effects wear off after thirty minutes or so.” He leaned closer to Michael, his voice lowering and almost hissing, “sure you don’t wanna try?” 

Michael eyed Eric, concern creeping into his gaze. He wasn’t sure Eric wouldn’t just shoot him.

In the past, he would have, but that was before. Before the uprising and the riots, and before Dauntless was expected to act like team players. Eric pulled the gun away from Michael. “Two teams, Four and I are captains.”

“You pick first,” Four knew Eric always went after the biggest and strongest, while he went after the smallest, who were usually easier to hide, and faster.

This time, Eric surprised him, “T.”

Treya glanced at Eric. She was smaller than most initiates, but she was fast, and powerful.

Four nodded his head, he wasn’t too surprised. Eric had taken a special interest in her, despite her small stature. “Alex.”

“Michael.”

“What?” Michael protested, his glare darting to Treya, “you expect me to be on a team with her?”

Eric’s eyes darkened in warning at Michaels protest, “it give you two some quality bonding time.”

Michael continued to protest, “I’m not working with factionless scum.”

Eric stepped nose to nose with Michael, ready to knock him back into place, when Treya snapped at both of them.

“Dauntless value teamwork. Guess you aren’t Dauntless enough to play as a team.”

Michael glared at her, but he didn’t argue.

Eric smirked, and Four picked another initiate.


End file.
